Will You Stay?
by Moonlit Fall
Summary: Sequel to If I Break. After breaking the contract with Gilbert, Oz Vessalius was banished to the Abyss. For ten long years, Gil's worked to save him, but rescuing Oz will bring Jack along as well. Gil's memories begin to surface; he's not sure of anything anymore. Oz will do whatever it takes to keep his loved ones safe, even if that means pushing them away. AU.
1. Prologue: Alone

**A/N: I know I said December...but I couldn't help myself and I had to start this. That said, there might still be a while before I post the first chapter, because I don't have a complete picture of where I want this story to go yet, but I've known for some time that the prologue would look like this.**

 **This is the sequel to my story If I Break, which is posted over on Areli White-wings' account. I'd** _ **recommend**_ **you read it first (Just so you aren't confused about certain things) But I read things without reading their predecessors all the time, so I think you'll still be able to grasp what's going on.**

 **Also-I had bad writers block before writing this, so this chapter was somewhat of a...cleanse? I was trying to feel through some of Gil's emotions to get myself back on track. I'm pleased with the way it turned out, I think.**

 **If you've read If I Break, (and you know how choppy my writing began to get toward the end as I started rushing through things) I would appreciate if you'd compare it to this and give me your thoughts on whether or not I've improved.**

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _I reach but I feel only air at night_

 _Not you, not love, just nothing_

 _I run to you,_

 _Call out your name,_

 _I see you there, farther away._

— _Farther Away, Evanescence―_

* * *

Thin snowflakes fell gently past the window, soft and slow. The rest of the world was still, bathed in frigid grey beneath late afternoon clouds. Gilbert watched the snow silently, his breath fogging lightly against the window. A faint warmth from the fireplace touched his back, and he leaned closer to the pane, pressing his cheek to the cool glass.

The Nightray grounds were empty, a peaceful quiet falling over Gilbert as he gazed out into the darkening air. Snow was dusted over slim tree branches like old trinkets forgotten in an attic. Gil longed to fling himself into the darkness, to feel the bite of the air against his skin, to run as far as he could, and to never return to the Nightray house. His heart ached for the lavish gardens of the Vessalius manor.

The only sounds in the darkened room were the crackling of the logs in the fireplace and the quiet snip of his brother's scissors as he tormented some unfortunate doll. Vincent had been quiet for most of the afternoon, seeming to sense Gilbert's melancholy, and the raven had been allowed to watch the night fall in peace.

Gil sighed quietly, leaning his forehead against the window and looking out at the snowflakes from beneath his eyelashes. The mahogany wood of the sill was smooth and chilled against his fingertips. He rubbed a hand along it absently, brushing his fingers together to rid them of the collected dust. Small particles floated up and his gaze trailed to the side, watching them rise, swirling gently as his breath stirred the air.

Gil inhaled instinctively, the musky scent nearly choking him with sudden sorrow. Green eyes flashed into his mind, so bright compared to the ashen wasteland around him. He must've made a noise, for the soft sound of the scissors paused.

"Don't think." Vincent's voice was smooth, but there was a strange edge beneath it. It was almost as though Vincent _knew._

Turning slightly, Gilbert eyed his brother. The blond had resumed his cutting, seemingly focused on his task once more. It was as if he hadn't spoken. Gil began to turn back to the window, but his eyes caught a flash of viridian. He stiffened, forehead creasing as he took a closer look at the plush in his brother's arms.

It was a little black rabbit with soft, red eyes and a deep green bow around its neck. It was already torn in various places, the tip of one ear dangling precariously. Vincent was curled on the floor, stuffing scattered all around him like snow in the firelight. His expression was serene, his scissors poised at the little toy's throat.

Gil's blood froze in his veins.

"Vince, don't—" He lunged forward, one hand outstretched to stop his brother, but he stumbled over another tattered doll. There was a thick snip, and the rabbit's head lolled to one side, an instant pop of white stuffing frothing at its seam. Sudden nausea rose in Gil's throat, his stomach churning with unsettled horror. Vincent stared up at him innocently, his brows drawing together perplexedly. There was something triumphant behind his brother's gaze as Gil swooped forward and scooped the plush into his arms, grabbing as much of the stuffing as he could hold. He dashed from the room, swallowing down the bile in his throat as he felt Vincent's eyes on his back.

Gilbert slammed his door behind him, locking it with quivering fingers. He set the small rabbit on his bed as gently as he could, arranging its head on the pillow in a way that seemed comfortable. Hurrying to his wardrobe, he rummaged through a few old shirts, finally pulling out a tarnished sewing needle and thin spool of thread.

Closing the large doors, he paused, brow furrowing. What was he doing? This was ridiculous! What would Vincent think of him now, after such an outburst? And for what? Just a stupid rabbit doll? Just because it had reminded him of—

He caught sight of the stuffing on his bed, his heart crawling into his throat.

He didn't have a choice.

Gilbert lit a candle, placing it on his nightstand as he leaned over the bed to gaze at the little plush. Glassy red eyes stared up at him, almost alive in the flickering light. If he hadn't known better, he would almost have thought there to be something incredibly sad about the rabbit's face.

" _I'll always want you by my side, Gil…"_

His vision blurred, and Gilbert had to steady himself against the edge of the bed. Wiping the tears from his face, Gil took a deep breath and lifted the ragged body from the sheets. The rabbit's fur was velvety soft, a deep shade of ebony that made the red of its eyes stand out like tiny stars in a midnight sky.

 _Soft, dark fur…._

Gil's fingers were trembling so badly he almost dropped the needle. Taking another slow breath, he sat on the edge of the bed, holding the doll to the light so he could see where Vincent had cut it. There was a slash at the base of one arm, small, just a bit of stuffing peeking out. The tip of one ear had nearly been severed, but thankfully hung on—even after Gilbert's frantic dash through the halls—and there was a long, deep tear through the rabbit's chest. From one shoulder to the opposite hip.

Gilbert's breath caught in his throat. The candle's flame danced wildly, sending odd shadows flickering across the walls.

It was just a coincidence.

It had to be, because this small toy wasn't _Oz,_ it was just an insignificant doll that Gilbert had pitied. _Right?_

Swallowing down his unease, Gil inspected the rabbit's head. The green bow was shredded on one side, smooth silk torn and fraying where Vincent's scissors had cut it. He was surprised to find that the little black head had managed to remain attached to the rabbit's body, a few strings still clinging to both parts. He sighed softly, feeling somewhat relieved that he didn't have to reattach it completely. Gilbert had only sewn once before, when Oz had torn his favorite shirt, an old one that Oscar had given him. He'd refused to admit the significance to Mrs. Kate, and she'd insisted on throwing it out and buying him a new one, so Gil had discreetly taken one of her sewing kits and repaired the small tear himself. It had been slow, difficult work, and he'd pricked himself numerous times, but the gratefulness in Oz's eyes had been reward enough for his trouble.

Gil raised the needle again, carefully threading it and gently pressing as much stuffing as he could into the small toy's soft body with his other hand. The cotton was thick between his fingers, the slit body making him feel as though he were a surgeon replacing the organs in a dying patient. The thought made him shudder. He stared down into crimson eyes, glinting strangely in the half-light. They watched him mournfully.

Shaking his head, Gil pinched the edges of the cut in the rabbit's arm and pushed the needle into the soft fur. An odd chill crawled up his spine and he paused, nearly cringing, before pushing the needle back through and staring down at the stich he had made. The velvet was thick, and there was some part of him that almost worried he might _hurt_ the little rabbit. His brows drew together in a somber scowl.

He was being _ridiculous._

Gilbert breathed an apology anyway, steeling himself to plunge the needle in once more. It only took two stitches to close the cut. Gil moved to the little rabbit's torn ear. He found himself whispering quietly to the doll as he worked. Its glass eyes seemed to flicker with warmth each time he spoke, and Gilbert allowed himself to imagine the rabbit could hear him. Surprisingly, he found that the idea brought him some form of comfort. It was someone he could talk to in the cold Nightray manor. Someone who would listen, without thinking him foolish and weak.

Vincent was always very patient with him, the perfect model of a loving little brother, but Gil always felt a sort of odd energy about him. It was obvious there were things his brother was hiding from him.

He sighed quietly, unsure if he really wanted to know what those things might be.

The rabbit's ear had taken more time than its arm, but Gilbert had still finished stitching it fairly quickly. He paused, taking in the small body and bracing himself for the final tears. The rabbit watched him knowingly.

Gil lifted his needle once more, carefully holding the fabric together around the rabbit's torso and sliding the needle through the ebony velvet.

A sharp stab of regret shot through his chest, and he winced, his trembling fingers gripping the needle in a white-knuckled grip.

 _My best friend…._

Oz's locket suddenly felt hot against his skin, a physical reminder of what he had failed to protect. Gil had given it to his master, yet the fact that he was the one who wore it weighed heavily upon his heart. A stone, crushing the breath from his body.

Gil's stitches were slow and unsteady, wavering with his resolve as the image of Oz's scar flashed before his eyes. The faint pink against his master's flawless skin; a grim reminder of Gilbert's failure. What had it been like, for the person who had made stitches like this in that perfect skin? Had Oz been awake? Had it hurt him?

"Does this hurt you, little rabbit?" The words were out of his mouth before Gil really had a chance to think them through, but he found his own despair mirrored in those little glass eyes. His vision blurred, but he blinked the tears away, ignoring the way his lips quivered. "I'm so sorry." The rabbit seemed to understand the apology was meant for someone else.

He was relieved when he finally reached the doll's throat. There appeared to be enough thread that he would be able to finish, and Gilbert prayed this assumption was correct. It felt... _wrong_ to leave the little rabbit in any state of disrepair, but he loathed the thought of asking one of the maids—or worse, _Vanessa_ —for a bit of extra thread. He would never be able to explain his desire to fix this rabbit. He wasn't even completely sure of the reason himself.

He finished the stitches around the rabbit's throat carefully, making sure every bit of stuffing was gently tucked away inside the little body. The only thread he'd been able to find was of a deep crimson, and Gil shuddered at the way it streaked diagonally across the toy's chest. It was far too similar to the blood that had oozed across Oz's shirt when Lottie Baskerville had slashed him. The thought made his throat close.

There was a quiet knock at the door, and Gil was immensely grateful that he'd remembered to lock it. He tied the tattered ribbon around the rabbit's neck with trembling fingers, hiding the messy stitches as best he could.

"Big brother?" Vincent's voice was faint. "Are you going to let me in?"

Gil didn't answer, sliding into bed and tucking the small plush in beside him. The little glass eyes stared up at him questioningly, warm crimson gleaming in the candlelight like rubies. He pulled the blankets up around them, rolling over to blow out the candle and cradling the little doll to his chest.

Vincent could sleep in the sitting room tonight.

There was a quiet sigh from behind the door, and Gil waited until he heard the soft sound of bare feet padding away down the hall before he let out the breath he'd been holding. He curled onto his side, burying his face in the velvety fur.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled thickly, breathing in the weathered scent of the old toy. It smelled like dust—like Oz. "I-I'm so _sorry,_ " His eyes watered, slow tears crawling down his cheeks and tickling his skin. A low whine slipped from between his parted lips.

Gil moaned, digging his fingers into the plush body and pressing his lips to the dark fur. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... _I...I'm so sorry!"_ He kissed the rabbit's forehead, its nose, its ears. His throat burned from holding back desperate cries. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened, I'm so-rry, I—" His breath hitched and he choked back a sob. " _I'm sorry…"_

" _...I'm sorry…."_


	2. Chapter One: The Other Side

**A/N: Err...I've always liked song quotes (or just quotes) at the beginnings of chapters (if they're fitting) and so I think I'm going to try to do that for this story...I'm sorry if you don't like them, I know some people don't...**

 **Um, and they're gonna be mainly Evanescence for a while, cuz I was going through my playlist and every song is fitting in SOME way, it's actually crazy. Sorry about the lack of variety at the moment...**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _Do you remember me?_

 _Lost for so long_

 _Will you be on the other side?_

 _Will you forget me?_

― _Tourniquet, Evanescence_ ―

* * *

Wet leaves squelched beneath Gilbert's shoes, a faint fog filtering through the forest as he walked. It had rained heavily the previous evening, and Gil had worried it would interfere with their mission. Regardless of what Break and Sharon said, he would trek out into the forest in any weather if it meant saving Oz.

There was a quiet murmur of voices in the quiet morning air, but Gil didn't pay any attention.

Reaching the small clearing at last, Gil gazed around at the trees, remembering how Oz had looked, curled up against the trunk of a young tree. He envisioned the way his small body had shivered when Gil had folded his coat around him, the small shoulders tensing at the movement. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he blinked them back before Break or Sharon could see.

Break let out a little sigh, putting his hands on his hips and turning in a slow circle. "Ten years can really change a place, huh?"

Gil swallowed. _Ten years…._ Who knew what kind of terrible things could've happened to his master in that time? _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me this long…._

"Are you ready?" Sharon's voice was soft. Gil glanced back at the young Rainsworth. Her eyes were gentle and sad as she gazed at him, a deep understanding swirling behind her stare.

Gil closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and imagining he was fourteen again, running through the forest, sunlight in his hair, Oz by his side. He imagined Oz was laughing, green eyes glowing with energy and happiness. His quiet giggles reverberated through the forest, as melodic and comforting as the soft sound of birdsong all around them. If Gil strained his ears, he could almost hear it.

The forest seemed alive with ghosts of Oz's memory, and Gil kept his eyes shut, a fleeting warmth enveloping him as he soaked in the soft echoes of their laughter. If he just stayed like this a little longer...

"Raven," Sharon prodded him softly. He opened his eyes slowly, his heart sinking as he took in the chilled emptiness all around them. Despair crawled into his chest.

"I'm ready," Gil murmured, clenching a trembling hand around the Blood Mirror that hung at his neck. The cool silver clattered against the small locket hidden beneath his shirt.

 _Oz, I'm coming, I promise._

Break grinned. "Grab onto us so no one gets lost in the passage,"

Gil shook his head, taking a step away from him. "I'm going alone."

Break's smile dropped. "That isn't safe. You might be deceived if you aren't careful. We should go with you, for your sake and for the sake of your master." He tapped his fingers rhythmically against his cane, a thoughtful frown settling over his expression.

Gil clenched his teeth, looking away. "I'm going alone." Of course Break was right, but this mistake was his, and he needed to fix it on his own.

"I'll watch from your shadow, " said Sharon gently, reaching out a kind hand to brush his arm. He glanced at her, dipping his head in acknowledgement as he took in her earnest gaze.

"Thank you, Lady Sharon."

She nodded, a sad smile gracing her features for a moment. "He needs you, Gilbert," she breathed, squeezing his arm lightly and pulling away. "Keep him safe."

"I will." Gil's voice was firm with conviction. He waited until he was sure Sharon and Break were far enough away that they wouldn't be caught up in Raven's energy, gripped the Blood Mirror and closed his eyes. _Raven,_ he called silently, _take me to Oz._

A bright blue flash of light erupted all around him, and Gil fought the urge to scream as he felt the ground vanish beneath him.

Suddenly he was falling, plummeting down through such impenetrable darkness that he would've thought himself unconscious but for the rush of air that brushed his skin and whipped his hair. Gilbert blinked, and then was startled to find himself sitting in what appeared to be water. Gil stood up quickly, staring down in surprise at the murky liquid beneath him. His pants clung to his legs, a faint chill seeping into his bones. Gil shuddered.

 _So this is the Abyss..._

He swallowed, glancing around anxiously. There didn't seem to be any dangerous chains nearby, but he didn't want to let his guard down. Oz was depending on him.

The Abyss felt...empty. There was an echoing solitude that almost felt overwhelming, similar to the frigid feeling of standing alone on a hill in the winter, looking out over the snow-covered earth and realizing just how small you really are. Gil breathed in slowly, closing his eyes for a moment to think.

 _Oz must be somewhere nearby; I told Raven to take me to him, not just into the Abyss._

Frowning slightly, he surveyed his surroundings. The remains of what appeared to be broken toys floated all around him, some hidden partially by deep shadows.

 _"Do you have any idea where to start looking?"_ Sharon's voice reached him faintly. He glanced down at the water.

"I don't," Gil admitted, biting his lip. He had already taken ten years to _get_ to the Abyss, Oz couldn't wait any longer. He _needed_ to find his master.

Sharon took a breath, about to speak, when Gil heard a sudden sound. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, exactly, but it was the first sign of any life he'd found so far, and the chance it could be Oz was too important to avoid. Swallowing down his anxiety, he moved in the direction of the noise.

"Miss Sharon, did you hear that?" He kept his voice low, in case it was a chain.

 _"I-I'm sorry, I didn't..."_ She sounded somewhat startled. _"Please be careful, Raven."_

He nodded, but remained silent. The sound was louder now, and Gil realized with a jolt that it was the quiet whimpering of a child.

 _Oz?_ A prickle of fear wormed its way into his chest.

He peered around the crumbling wall of an old dollhouse, hope flaring in his heart as he caught sight of a shock of blond hair. Gil crept closer, his footsteps sloshing softly through the water. Every fiber of his being longed to race to his master's side, to fold the boy into his arms and to never let go, but he had no idea what kind of state Oz was in after spending ten years alone in this darkness.

As he drew nearer, Gil was able to make out Oz's form in the darkness. It was definitely him, curled against the wall of the dollhouse, his face buried in his hands. Oz was panting raggedly, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

Gil's heart clenched, and he had to bite his lip to keep from calling out to the trembling boy. Instead, he moved faster, allowing the cold water to splash up onto his legs as he nearly ran through the darkness, dropping to his knees before his master.

Oz's crimson eyes were wide and unseeing; he stared through Gilbert as though the man weren't there. Gil gripped his shoulders gently, his stomach flipping uncomfortably as he took in Oz's vacant gaze. Slow tears crawled down the blond's cheeks, one hand clutching at his chest and the other gripping his face in horror. His breathing sounded off, hitching and rasping against his chest.

"H-Hey! Oz?" Gil managed to gasp, breathless from fear.

Oz didn't seem to hear him, letting out a quiet sob, his face crumpling entirely. Gil's hands shook violently as he tried to brush the tears from Oz's face. "What's wrong?" His heart thundered madly against his chest, blood pounding in his ears. "A-Are you hurt?"

"J-Ja...ck...Jack..." Oz's lips barely moved, his eyes locking on something just over Gil's shoulder. The raven chanced a glance behind him, but there was nothing there. He grit his teeth, squeezing Oz's shoulders gently. The boy let out a strangled sound, anguish tearing from his throat and penetrating the emptiness around them. _"Please..."_

Gil took a shuddering breath, his vision blurring. _"I'm sorry—"_

Oz's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening before rolling back and falling shut. He slumped into Gil's arms.

"O-Oz!"

Gil's quivering fingers pushed Oz's hair back, pressing to his throat to feel for a pulse, his head spinning with terror. Oz's pulse was rapid but slowing. Gil swallowed down the nausea that had crawled up his throat, exhaling shakily and pulling the thin boy into his arms. Oz's head lolled lifelessly against his chest, and Gil had to fight back a sob.

 _Please be alright..._

"Miss Sharon, please bring us back," he said thickly, holding Oz close so he wouldn't get lost during the transport. Darkness enveloped him, and when Gil could see again, he found himself crouched on the forest floor with Sharon and Break gathered around him. Deadfall clung to his soaked pants, the chill of the forest air making him shiver. He pulled Oz closer.

Sharon placed a gentle hand on Oz's forehead, her brow furrowing. She glanced up at Gil. "Do you know what happened?"

He shook his head, fingers clenching in the fabric of Oz's shirt.

"He doesn't feel warm," Sharon murmured, attempting to reassure him. Gil tried to smile, but his lips were quivering. Oz was anything _but_ warm, his skin clammy from the chilled air of the Abyss.

"He saw Jack." The words felt like dust on his tongue. Gil glanced up at Break, his eyes hard. "That _bastard!"_

Break stared down at him silently, his expression unreadable, but Gil could've sworn he saw a flash of sympathy behind his gaze.

Gil stood carefully, cradling his master to his chest and trying to ignore how small Oz's frame felt compared to his own. He swallowed hard. "We should get him back to the Rainsworth manor before he catches a cold in this weather,"

Sharon nodded, motioning for Break to lead the way back. She fell into step beside Gil, watching him out of the corner of her eye as they walked.

Gil ignored her, biting his lip and tucking Oz closer to his body to block out the chilly morning air. What would Oz think, when he realized how much Gil had changed? The thought made his stomach churn. Would it put a barrier between them?

"I'm sure he'll still treat you the same," Sharon murmured, brushing Gil's shoulder with a gentle hand.

"...Yeah...?" His fingers tightened unconsciously around the slight frame. Had Oz always been this small?

* * *

The firelight cast a soft golden glow across Oz's pale face, flickering shadows highlighting how exhausted he truly looked. Gil sat silently at his bedside, one hand clasped gently around the blond's. The warmth from the fire seemed to have done Oz some good, for he no longer felt cold to the touch. Sighing softly, Gil tucked the blankets tighter around him, just in case.

The carriage ride back to the Rainsworth manor had seemed endless to Gil, Oz's limp body cradled in his lap, his thick coat folded around the boy to try and give him some semblance of warmth. Sharon and Break had gone off somewhere soon after reaching the house, and Gil had been left to watch over Oz for the rest of the afternoon.

His heart ached for when Oz would wake up, but it was enough just to be able to hold onto him again, to feel his pulse and to hear the faint rasp of his breath. Gil sighed softly, resting his head on the mattress and watching the slow rise and fall of Oz's chest.

It was so peaceful, Gil found himself blinking back sleep, exhaustion dragging at his bones from the energy it had taken to use Raven to travel to the Abyss. Yawning widely, he turned his head, glancing at the fireplace to check how much longer he had before the logs would need to be moved around.

 _If I just...close my eyes...only for a moment..._

A feeble tug at his sleeve woke him, a weak voice mumbling his name thickly. "Gi...l?"

Gil sat up sharply, whirling to meet the bleary green gaze of his master, nervous excitement flaring in his chest. Oz's eyes widened, and he shrank back into the blankets with a small gasp. "A-Ah..."

Gil froze, his heart sinking.

"I-It's alright," he said, smiling shakily, trying to ignore how tight his chest suddenly felt. He squeezed Oz's fingers gently. "You're safe here, I promise."

He glanced away, pretending not to see the fear in Oz's eyes. The dying embers of the fire cast an odd glow all around them. Gil swallowed.

"My name is Raven."


	3. Chapter Two: I Know Those Eyes

**A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long ;-; I've been trying to be more consistent about working on my actual manuscript instead of fanfiction, so ah...I've been slacking when it comes to this story...Yesterday was Oz's birthday and I tried to post but there was that issue with the documents so it's late xD (It's longer than usual tho, maybe that'll make up for it)**

 **You'll notice that I tried (keyword:** _ **tried)**_ **to write from Oz's perspective...I don't know, I just feel like I connect more with Gil when it comes to looking through someone's point of view, so it's really easy and natural to narrate from his perspective. I'm sorry for butchering Oz...0_0 (Does anyone recognize the chapter title?)**

 ****IMPORTANT: If you have any ideas for scenes that you would like to see in this story, please leave them down in a review. I'd love to hear them, and I could really use them because I'm struggling xD (please help)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _You're not alone_

 _No matter what they told you_

 _You're not alone_

 _I'll be right beside you forevermore_

— _Like You, Evanescence—_

* * *

Oz's shoulders seemed to sag, the faint gleam of hope in his eyes dying away. He inhaled slowly. "What past would you like to change?"

Gil pulled back, his eyes widening. "W-What?" A chill crept over his skin at the resignation that had settled in Oz's gaze.

Dull green eyes stared hollowly up at him. "You must've brought me here with the intention of changing the past..." Oz played with the edge of the blanket, swallowing quietly.

There was a quiet laugh from behind him, and Gil turned to see Break sauntering into the room. Sharon followed close behind, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Good morning!" Gil frowned. _Morning?_ Break wrenched the curtains open, allowing a stream of warm morning light to filter into the room.

Oz flinched at the sudden brightness, his eyes widening. "B-Break?"

Break moved to stand beside Gilbert, his gaze sobering as he directed it at Oz. "There are a lot of people who have been very worried about you, you know," he said quietly. Oz stiffened, his expression twisting with worry.

"Is Gil alright?" He bit his lip, refusing to look at any of them. "I...He was hurt..." He shifted, fingers clenching around the edge of the sheet.

Gil's fingernails dug into his palms, his heart squeezing.

Break's visible eye softened. "Our dear Gilbert is just fine," he said, the words more gentle than Gil had expected. He glanced in the raven's direction, his gaze dark. Gil swallowed back the nausea that had begun to crawl up his throat.

Oz nodded slowly, relaxing back into the pillows with a soft sigh. "I'm so glad…" He closed his eyes. Guilt flooded Gil's chest. Oz had been trapped in the Abyss for ten years, yet the first thing he thought of was Gilbert's safety?

 _I'm so sorry it took me so long…._

Sharon moved to stand slightly behind Break, rose-colored eyes wide with curiosity as she peeked around him to look at Oz. "You're the Bloodstained Black Rabbit?"

Gil's eyes widened, his gaze flying to Oz, who seemed to have taken the remark in stride, his body stiffening so slightly it was hardly noticeable. He opened his eyes, blinking slightly for a moment as though confused as to where he was, and turned to Sharon.

"I am."

Heart pounding anxiously, Gil inspected him closely. There was nothing in his expression to suggest the remark had bothered him, or stirred up any unpleasant memories, but Gil knew how well Oz could conceal his feelings, and he found himself already beginning to spin down a rabbit trail of worry.

Sharon tilted her head to the side, stepping out from behind the hatter so Oz could see her more clearly. Her expression was filled with wonder, but her eyes shone with a gentle serenity that reflected her wise nature. The tension in Gil's shoulders eased slightly as he understood that there was intention behind what she was doing, and that it hadn't just been a careless comment.

He should've known. Sharon Rainsworth never did anything carelessly.

"And yet you are also someone named Oz Vessalius?" Sharon murmured, moving closer to the bed. Oz glanced away, a quiet sound slipping past his lips; something between a sigh and a chuckle.

"Just Oz."

Gil's brows drew together into a frown. _What?_

"What do you mean?" Sharon echoed his thoughts.

Oz didn't answer for a moment, and Gil pulled his hat lower over his face, looking him over again, examining each part of his form and trying to dissect his body language in the way he'd gotten used to doing with the Nightrays over the years. One of the boy's hands was clenched around his sheets, but the grip wasn't tight, as it had been earlier. The other was fiddling absently with his sleeve. His expression was distant, and when Oz spoke again, his voice held the tone of someone who was not quite present, and yet not quite somewhere else. To Gilbert, Oz was everywhere, and nowhere at all.

"I'm not really a Vessalius, but the actions my contractor commanded of me were things I don't want to repeat." His fingers tightened around the sheet. "I'm not Oz Vessalius, and yet….I wouldn't like to be the B-Rabbit either."

Break chuckled. "But, you must know, you can't escape what you _are."_ His voice held no malice, and Oz didn't look up at him.

"I know." He smiled, not looking at any of them directly; a smile for himself. "But I'll try. I'll try as hard as I can to stop Jack on my own, to keep him from breaking through and using my…" He paused, the first sign of uncertainty lacing his features. "...my body...to send this world to the Abyss. I'll do everything I can to keep from burdening any of you with it." He finally met Sharon's eyes, still smiling, "My name is Oz, it's an honor to meet you."

A pang of sorrow touched Gil's heart. Did Oz really think he needed to handle his troubles on all on his own? Didn't he even want to see Gilbert, to confide in his servant?

No, Gil realized, his sorrow rising into despair. Oz had already begun to shut him out, to push him away and to try to take everything all on himself, even back then.

Sharon's eyes softened. "My name is Sharon Rainsworth," she said gracefully, giving Oz the smallest of curtsies. He dipped his head, keeping it lowered for a second longer than was proper for a young noble and glancing out through his eyelashes. He seemed to have fallen into thought.

Break, sensing the wandering of his mind to possibly grim places, turned sharply on his heel and made for the door, calling over his shoulder airily, "Well then, I'm sure you've already met Raven, and seeing as to how busy the Mistress and I are as of late, I'm sure you won't mind spending the rest of the afternoon in his company." Oz's head shot up, his expression dropping with anxiety. Break continued before he could protest, a wry smile curving his lips, "Don't worry, he's much duller than he appears." He swept from the room with a wink.

The sound of the door cut off Gilbert's indignant, "Hey!"

Sharon sent Oz one last smile of reassurance and followed the hatter from the room. A tense silence fell over them, and Gil peeked at Oz out of the corner of his eye, still too nervous to face him completely. His knuckles were nearly as white as the sheets clenched in his trembling hands.

Gil licked his lips nervously, mouth suddenly dry. He cleared his throat, clutching the brim of his hat in one hand and bringing it lower over his face to hide his flushed cheeks as he turned toward the boy on the bed. "Ah...I, um…." He trailed off, finally able to see Oz's expression fully. He was rigid, shoulders hunched slightly as though he wished to curl in on himself but was too prideful to admit his distress so openly. He refused to meet Gil's eyes, but would peer at him sideways every now and then, as though checking to see if he were still there.

His stomach churned. Gil had no idea how to regain Oz's trust without exposing his identity entirely, but the thought of admitting to what he'd become sent twists of dread fluttering through his intestines. Everything had already changed so much for Oz, how would it affect him to know of what Gilbert had done while in his absence? No. It was better for Oz to believe that the Gilbert he knew was off somewhere, safe and tucked away, and, more importantly, still the picture of innocent kindness.

Revealing himself wasn't an option.

And so, with a pounding heart and quivering hands, he placed himself lightly on the edge of the bed, leaning as close as he dared without causing Oz to shrink away. "Hey," Gil kept his voice gentle, but the tremor in his tone was impossible to miss. Oz kept his head low submissively. Gil swallowed down his nerves. "You...um….you don't need to be afraid," He managed at last, biting his lip when Oz didn't acknowledge his words. All the ease that had come with the familiarity of Break's presence had drained from him, leaving behind an invariable apprehension that Gilbert had no idea how to relieve.

A sudden thought struck him; the remembrance of the first words Oz had spoken to him upon his waking. Gil pulled the Blood Mirror from his shirt, jingling the chain slightly to catch Oz's attention. He raised his head only slightly, blinking at the sight of the mirror, eyes narrowing perplexedly.

"See?" said Gil, trying to appear as reassuring as he could, "I already have a chain, so you don't need to worry, alright?"

Oz nodded faintly, his eyes locked on the mirror as it glinted in the sunlight. "...Raven?" It took Gil a moment to understand Oz was asking about his chain.

"Th-That's right…"

"L-Lord Nightray…" Oz's voice squeaked. "I-It's an honor….to meet you…" He worked the sheets between his fingers anxiously, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand the nature of Gil's presence.

Gil started, not having expected Oz to realize to whom exactly Raven belonged. "O-Oh! Please...erm….you don't have to call me that, I'm...not exactly the title's heir." He cleared his throat, hoping to douse any suspicions before they could arise. "I'm a close friend of Break and Miss Sharon, you see, and when I heard what they were trying to do, and...well….I thought I might be able to help…"

Oz seemed to register that Gilbert had been the one to rescue him, for his cheeks reddening as he averted his gaze. "That's...ah….that's so kind of you...but...for a Vessalius?"

Gil frowned. He must've looked severe, for Oz shrank back ever-so-slightly. "That stupid rivalry doesn't matter to me," He ground out, clenching and unclenching his fists unconsciously around the Blood Mirror.

"A-Ah...I see….it.." Oz paused, curling his arms around himself, "...never really seemed to be very important to me either…" He swallowed. His unease was nearly tangible.

Gil could hardly take it anymore. He _had_ to find some way to make Oz more comfortable in his presence. It almost physically _hurt_ to watch his precious best friend shrink and stutter like a wilting flower.

"Is there anything you'd like to do today?" The question was sudden, out of the blue, and Oz looked rightfully confused. "Do you feel like you have enough _energy_ to do anything?" Gil pressed.

Oz stared at him, startled, mouth open just slightly. He seemed to really think for a moment, brows furrowing. "I….I don't…"

"The Rainsworth library is quite extensive, how about we see if they're any books that interest you?" Gil said, lowering his tone to something more gentle. He tucked the mirror back into his shirt and stood, holding out a hand for Oz to take. "It should be fairly relaxing, and maybe it'll give you some time to sort out your thoughts."

There was a long moment of tension where Oz simply stared at his hand, as though the notion of taking it were somehow foreign to him. It was long enough that Gil began to feel somewhat self-conscious; maybe he was just being ridiculous, he shouldn't have even mentioned it—

Oz reached out a tentative hand and placed it cautiously into Gilbert's, nodding faintly.

"That….sounds nice…"

Gil was frozen for a split-second, his gaze locked on their hands, at the way his hand _dwarfed_ Oz's—

Regret surged painfully through his chest.

Oz suddenly seemed uncertain, his touch feather-light against Gil's skin. He looked about to pull away, and Gil forced himself to keep his composure, squeezing the boy's fingers gently and helping him out of bed.

To his relief, Oz seemed steady on his feet, but he was hesitant, trailing slightly behind Gilbert as the man lead him out into the hall.

* * *

The library glowed with warm morning light, dust floating gently through the air in the illuminated stream from the windows. Oz immediately seemed to take to the tranquility of the empty room, enthusiastically scouring the shelves until he found the Holy Knight section. Gil watched him fondly, absently grabbing a large cookbook. He had no intention of reading.

There was a sudden squeak from the direction Oz had gone, and Gilbert whirled around, a pang of terror shooting through his chest. Oz was gaping at the shelf as though it somehow lead to another world, and Gil hurried to his side. "Is everything alright?"

"Th-There're so many volumes!" He pulled volume nine from its place, inspecting it with furrowed brows.

Gil stiffened, cursing himself silently, but Oz only stuck the book back onto the shelf and pulled out volume six. His tiny frown remained, but he didn't speak of his confusion as he curled onto one of the lavish couches. Swallowing, Gil settled across from him.

They spent most of the afternoon in silence. Oz seemed to be enjoying his book, and Gil spent the time peeking over the top of the cookbook and enjoying the simple presence of his master.

* * *

Raven had fallen asleep.

They'd been in the library for quite some time now, and Oz had been pleased to find he could force down his anxiety somewhat by focusing on the familiar story. He hadn't forgotten Raven's presence, but being able to hide his face behind a book made it much easier to bear.

The tall man had glanced up at him occasionally, but Oz pretended not to notice. Raven was odd, but he'd been incredibly gentle toward Oz, leaving the boy with conflicting feelings. Raven didn't seem like he _would_ hurt him, but he knew with absolute certainty that if he wanted to, he could.

Which was why he had no idea what to do now that Raven had dozed off.

Oz shifted on the couch, trying to ignore the faint ache of hunger in his stomach. He hadn't eaten upon waking, which meant he hadn't had anything to eat since….An anxious frown tugged at his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten.

It couldn't have been more than a day or two, for he didn't feel too uncomfortable. Oz sighed, glancing once more at the man dozing across from him. Even if Raven had been awake, he wasn't sure how to address the problem without sounding demanding…

The last thing he wanted was to impose on the Rainsworths, or on Raven's generosity.

He lifted Holy Knight once more, but every time he tried to focus on the words, his gaze was drawn back to the sleeping man's face. Oz swallowed.

Raven was slumped against the back of the couch, his head tilted just slightly. His expression was serene, his lips parted as he breathed evenly through his mouth. Dark curls cascaded softly over his forehead and cheeks.

Oz bit his lip, setting Holy Knight slowly onto the couch beside him. He leaned forward, inspecting the man's face more closely. Like this, with the afternoon sunlight pouring into the room and shining gently against his features, Raven almost looked….

His mouth suddenly felt dry. Struggling to calm his pounding heart, Oz lifted himself slowly to his feet and moved nearer to the the dozing man. He leaned as close as he dared, almost holding his breath to keep it from fanning out over Raven's face.

He'd thought before that Raven reminded him of Gil, back when he'd first woken. He'd been exhausted and confused, and he'd seen the wild ebony hair and just assumed, but when Raven had turned, Oz had been startled by the ice in his piercing gaze. Even when he'd tried to make Oz feel more comfortable, there had been something incredibly austere about his presence. Gil was much too gentle to harbor such darkness.

Moistening his lips, Oz reached out a trembling hand, gently brushing back some of the man's hair so he could better see his face. Raven was thin in a pleasant sort of way, with a long, straight nose and smooth ivory skin that looked even whiter beside the inky black wisps of hair that still framed his face. He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and coffee. The cookbook he'd been reading was propped open on his lap.

 _A cookbook…._ Oz shook the thought away. It was just a coincidence. Just like the resemblance, just like how Raven had been right beside him when he woke up, and just like how kind the man tried to be. It was all just some strange coincidence, because Oz had only been in the Abyss for a few days at most, and after the way they'd parted, there was no way Gil or any relative of Gil's would ever want to see him again. Besides, he reminded himself, Raven belonged to the Nightray family; had formed a contract with their chain. There was no way Gilbert would betray the Vessalius household, and there was no way the Nightrays would allow just anyone to contract Raven.

It was simply impossible.

But still….He leaned even closer, so close he could feel Raven's soft breath against his face, could see each little line that made up his skin. There was a look of exhaustion about his pale face that Oz couldn't quite place. He assumed Raven had used his chain's power to rescue Oz, and was therefore still feeling the aftereffects of such exertion, but the look almost seemed to be set into his features.

Oz swallowed. His legs were trembling from the effort of balancing in such a position, but he reached out a tentative hand, hovering shakily over Raven's cheek. If he could just brush away that look…

Golden eyes opened slowly, blinking for a moment as they struggled to register Oz's face at such proximity. They were barely an inch apart. Raven's eyes widened in shock.

Oz gasped, instantly jerking back, but his legs hit the coffee table in his haste and he toppled back into the space between the table and the other couch with a startled yelp. Raven jolted forward in horror, reaching out a hand, but Oz shrank back into the space. He blinked furiously, gritting his teeth to hold back a sob, but it slipped out anyway, choked and breathy.

"S-Sorry! Sorry…..I'm sorry….sorrysorry…" It trailed into frantic babbling as the tears broke free. "I didn't….I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Hey," Raven's voice was gentle, but his eyes were huge with confusion. "Hey, are you…" He trailed off, uncertain. _Are you alright?_

 _Are you afraid of me?_

"It's okay," Raven murmured, taking Oz's trembling hands gently. "I-I'm not mad at you…" _I could never be mad at you._ His stomach fluttered uncomfortably. He ran his fingers gently along Oz's hands, trying to ignore the feeling of Oz's pulse thundering beneath his skin. _Are you afraid of me?_

He waited until Oz's breath stopped coming in wet gasps before speaking again. "Um…" Raven swallowed. The boy glanced up at him finally, his eyes watery and rimmed with red. "What, um, were you…?"

Oz flushed, averting his gaze again. "You….reminded me of...someone…."

Raven stiffened, but Oz was still too flustered to notice. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "A-Ah, I see. Well...I'm...I'm sorry….but I'm not…"

"I-I know." Oz refused to look at him.

Swallowing, Raven opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a faint growl from Oz's stomach. Oz let out a horrified squeak, a blush of mortification flying across his cheeks. Raven's heart dropped with guilt.

"O-Oh! I'm so sorry! You must be so hungry!"

"N-No! No...It's….I'm fine, it's not that bad…." Oz bit his lip, looking away.

Struggling to refrain from smacking himself, Raven helped the boy carefully to his feet. "C'mon, I'll make you something."

* * *

Oz ate ravenously, although he refused to even _touch_ his food until Gilbert made himself something to eat as well. Upon Gil's suggestion, they returned to the library and read well into the evening.

Gil sighed contentedly, setting his book down and leaning against the back of the couch to stretch. He glanced over at Oz, smiling to himself as he took in his master's still body. Oz had fallen asleep, Holy Knight propped open and curled close to his chest. The candlelight cast a warm glow across his peaceful face.

Gil stood slowly, leaning carefully over Oz and lifting him into his arms. The boy must've been fairly tired, for he didn't even stir as Gil pulled him close and slipped out into the hall.

Gentle moonlight shone in through the wide hall windows, casting paned shadows across the walls. Gil glanced out into the darkness of the Rainsworth grounds, soft longing tugging at his heart a moment as he remembered the Vessalius gardens.

Oz felt incredibly small in his arms. Gil swallowed regretfully, hugging him just a little closer and burning the moment into his memory. He was unsure if Oz would ever allow him to get this close while he was awake—if he would allow _Raven._

Because Oz seemed to be afraid of him.

He tried to push the thought away, but it refused to leave him. It hurt.

Gil assumed it was his appearance that spurred it, but there was a faint fear deep in his chest that it was because Oz was a chain, and there was some way he could sense the blood on Gil's hands.

Sliding silently into the guest room that had been prepared for Oz, Gil placed the boy gently onto the bed, lighting a candle and tucking the blankets around him tightly. He hovered for a moment at the bedside, uncertain, before steeling his resolve and leaning in to press a soft kiss to Oz's hair.

He turned quickly on his heel, grabbing the candle and struggling to calm his pounding heart. What was he _thinking?_ He was a murderer, a traitor to the Vessalius family! He was a _Nightray!_ He could never be close to Oz again. He didn't have the _right._

He gasped, stumbling and nearly dropping the candle as a small hand caught the edge of his coat and pulled him back.

Oz gazed up at him sleepily, one hand still fisted around Gil's coat.

"U-Um…" Gil managed, his face burning as he realized Oz must've felt the kiss. _He must think it's so weird….For a stranger to do something like that…._ He swallowed. _Or maybe he realized who I am..._ A pang of terror shot through his chest.

Oz blinked dazedly, a sudden look of uncertainty twisting his features. "Don't….Don't leave…" The words were faint, unsure.

Gil stared down at him in surprise.

"...Don' wanna be alone…."

"A-Are you sure? I...You don't know me very well, I could….go get Break…?" Gil worked his lower lip anxiously between his teeth.

Oz shook his head, his eyes shining with tears in the candlelight. " _Please_ don't leave me alone…" His voice broke.

Gil's eyes widened, his heart clenching sorrowfully. He set the candle back onto the bedside table, pulling a chair next to the bed and taking Oz's hand in his. "I'll stay right here," He murmured, pulling the shifted blankets back around the small body. "I promise."

Oz leaned back into the pillows, watching him silently for a moment. At last, he squeezed Gil's hand and nodded, curling up beneath the blankets and letting out a quiet sigh.


	4. Chapter Three: Autumn Dusk

**A/N: This chapter's a little (a lot) longer, so...maybe that'll make up for how long this story's taking me. I feel bad, because If I Break got updates every week, but I'm hoping that the writing of this story will be better done because I'm spending more time on it.**

 **I** _ **had**_ **to post today,** **(So I wrote 60% of this chapter this afternoon)** **because it's the exact one-year anniversary of me discovering Pandora Hearts! I picked up Volume 2 in the library while I was waiting for someone to finish checking out, and** ** _of course_** **I just** ** _happened_** **to flip right to the page where Oz and Alice open the doors of the mansion to see Zwei and Gil fighting. I remember thinking that Gil was like an assassin or something that had come to kill them xD I read all the way through that chapter, and I ended up finishing the anime and reading the entire manga in the span of three days.**

 **I'm sure the librarians thought I was crazy, checking out fourteen manga volumes at once xD And thus began the obsession *sigh* Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, thank you so much for reading! (I'll try to update faster)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _The Poet came down to the lake_

 _To call out to his dear_

 _When there was no answer_

 _He was overcome with fear_

— _The Poet and the Muse, Poets of the Fall—_

* * *

Oz's shoulders were stiff as he hunched over his breakfast, but overall his countenance seemed more at ease, even if only slightly. Gil bit his lip, anxious to disrupt the comfortable atmosphere, but he was unable to push away the thoughts that were poking at the back of his mind. Oz took a careful sip of his water. Gil took a deep breath.

"Who's Gil?"

Oz choked.

He nearly dropped the cup as he struggled to hold back his frantic coughs, and Gil and Sharon instantly moved forward to help him. He shook their concerned hands away, still gasping, one hand clutched to his chest in a desperate attempt to fill his lungs with air. Finally, he took another sip of his water, the cup clenched in a white-knuckled grip. He was even stiffer than before. "Wh-What?"

"You….ah...You were crying his name in your sleep last night." Gil fidgeted uncomfortably with his sleeves. Oz's face reddened.

"W-Was I? O-Oh…" He wouldn't meet Gil's gaze.

Break stifled a snicker behind his sleeve. Gil shot him a dirty glance, but Sharon beat him to a reproach, smacking the hatter's shoulder with her fan.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you, or disrupted your sleep," Oz mumbled. His hands were trembling.

Gil tried to smile reassuringly, but his body felt numb with anticipation and fear. "Y-You didn't...but, ah….I was just curious…" Gil swallowed. "He seemed important to you."

"He is." Oz's voice was thick and soft, as though he was barely able to push the words from his throat. But the response had been immediate. Gil shifted guiltily. "Gil is someone who...I failed, time and time again, to protect. It's my duty, as a master, but still, I…." Oz shook his head, his eyes glazing over with tears.

Gil struggled to find words to comfort him. _I'm not Gil,_ he reminded himself, _I'm Raven._ "I-I'm sure it wasn't your fault,"

Oz didn't answer, looking away. "Gil is my best friend, and the most important person to me." HIs voice was still soft, hesitant, but it held an underlying strength now. "I'll do _whatever it takes_ to keep him safe, and to make up for my past mistakes. I….owe it to him, for everything that he's done for me."

Gil's fists clenched under the table, an odd mix of guilt and joy bubbling inside his chest.

Break took a sip of his tea, his eyebrows raised. "If I remember correctly, Gilbert was just a servant. How could he ever have done anything of importance in _his_ life, let alone in the life of a noble?"

Gil bristled, stifling a cry of outrage. Break sent a smirk in his direction. Oz glanced up sharply, a low growl growing in his throat.

"Don't talk about him like that."

Sharon looked up from her plate, blinking slightly. It was the first time she'd heard the timid chain use such a tone: the tone of a master. Gil inhaled softly, warm nostalgia sloshing over his heart. It was replaced almost immediately by grief for the life he could never live again.

A servant slipped into the room, handed Sharon a small bundle of letters, and vanished back into the hall. Break leaned over to look at them with her, a slow smile tugging at his lips. He looked up at Gil. "We have a mission."

" _Now?"_ Gil's stomach dropped. "A-Are you sure it's that important?" Oz glanced over at him in confusion.

"Extremely. Innocent lives are depending on you, Raven." Break's gaze was cold, but Gil could see the amusement underneath.

Sharon smiled sympathetically. "There's word of an illegal contractor on the loose in Reveil. You'll have to leave soon if you're going to make it there before dark."

Swallowing, Gil frowned down at his breakfast. Would Oz be alright without him? After so long, he couldn't _bear_ to leave his precious master behind, but….if lives were really on the line…

"A mission?" Oz wondered, breaking Gil from his thoughts. He bit his lip.

"Raven and I are both agents of Pandora. We work to find illegal contractors and dispose of them before they cause too much damage." Break grinned, pulling a lollipop from his sleeve and giving it a wry lick.

Oz's face drained of its color at the mention of Pandora, but he said nothing, only turning his gaze to his lap and swallowing hard.

Sharon sent Break a disapproving glare. "Don't worry, Lord Oz, Break and I are staying here, so you won't be alone with the servants." When he didn't look up, she added gently, "Maybe you can spend the day in the library again? I don't think anyone will bother you in there."

Oz nodded, but it seemed forced.

* * *

To Gil's surprise, Oz followed him to his room, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed while Gil put on his coat and tied his cravat. "I should be back tomorrow night at the latest, alright? Break and Lady Sharon will be around, so don't be afraid to ask them if you need anything," he said into the mirror.

"Um…"

Gil didn't turn from the mirror, still messing with the folds of the cravat. "Hm?" There was a long pause, and he glanced over his shoulder, frowning in confusion. Oz was staring down at the bedsheets, gripping the white fabric fiercely.

"Lord Nightray...:" Oz swallowed.

"Please don't call me that...Raven is fine."

"Please….take me with you today..." His voice was uncertain, trembling.

Gil turned sharply. "Absolutely not." A spark of terror struck his chest at the mere _thought_ of taking Oz out onto a mission with him. There were so many things that could go wrong….

Oz flinched, shrinking even further into himself. "But—"

" _No."_ Gil moved to stand beside him, softening his voice. "It's incredibly dangerous to actively search out illegal contractors," he said gently. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm a chain…" Oz mumbled, refusing to lift his head. "I'll heal quickly. Besides," His fists clenched, "I can help you! I can sense when chains are nearby,"

"My chain can do that as well," said Gil, taking his hat from the bedside table and turning to leave. "I'm sorry, Oz, but I just can't put you in danger like that. I won't be gone long."

" _Please!"_ Oz cried, lunging off the bed to stumble after him, one hand outstretched. Gil forced himself to turn away and slip from the room. To his surprise, Oz followed.

"Lord Nightray—"

Gil pushed his hat lower over his face and quickened his pace. The servants sent him odd looks as he passed, Oz trailing desperately behind.

Break and Sharon stood beside the carriage that had been prepared for him.

"Break," said Gil, leaning close and passing a frustrated hand over his eyes. "Please talk some sense into him, he wants to come along with me!"

To his horror, a slow grin spread across the hatter's face. "That sounds like a wonderful idea!"

" _What?"_

Oz smiled brightly, folding his hands behind his back and rocking slightly on his heels. "Th-Thank you! I promise I'll stay out of your way, Lord Raven."

Gil's hands were trembling. He forced back the pounding of his heart and gripped the edge of the carriage to steady himself. _No. No, no. Absolutely not. Oz could_ not _be allowed to join him on a_ mission, _of all things!_ "Break—"

"Of course, you'll have to keep a close watch on him. We don't want a rogue chain to deal with alongside the illegal contractor." Break's smirk was cruel.

Oz's smile faltered. "I...I'm sure Lord Raven will be capable enough to kill me if I begin to lose control of myself." His voice held a hollow edge. Gil inhaled sharply, glancing at Oz in horror, but the boy was staring at Break, who was grinning with the predatory glee of a cat who'd found its prey.

A hot flash of anger shot through Gil's gut, but he simply tugged on the brim of his hat and motioned for Oz to enter the carriage. He turned to Break and Sharon, twisting his fingers together anxiously. "I still don't think this is good idea. He could get hurt, and we just got him back…"

Sharon placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Break and I will watch from your shadow. If anything going wrong, we'll come immediately."

Gil bit his lip. "Even still…."

"Oz seems like someone who would accept you no matter what," she murmured, giving his arm a soft squeeze. Gil stiffened. "I don't think you have anything to fear."

Gil swallowed thickly, nodding his thanks and slipping into the carriage after Oz. The boy wouldn't look at him, fiddling nervously with his hands in his lap. Gil settled across from him with a quiet sigh, glancing out the window in hopes of breaking some of the tension. Oz still didn't glance up, but the stiffness in his shoulders seemed to relax.

The ride passed mostly in silence, with the occasional attempt from Gilbert to make conversation. Oz would answer with short sentences, never meeting Gil's gaze, whether by looking out the window at the faint rain or down at his hands in his lap. Eventually, Gil stopped trying, for fear of annoying the boy. The last thing he needed was for Oz to begin to dislike him.

Oz fell asleep soon after their conversation died away, slumping against the window with a quiet murmur. Gil was content to watch him, to be able to trace the lines of his face without fear of being noticed. In the soft glow of the afternoon drizzle, he could finally see the deep circles that hung beneath Oz's eyes. His heart sank.

The boy would cry out occasionally, his voice soft, but the words Gil could make out sent aching stabs of pain through his chest. Sometimes he would call for Oscar, or Ada, but it was usually Gil he spoke to, faint wails of despair and fear reaching Gil's ears. His hands itched to wake Oz, but he feared this would be the only opportunity for safe rest until the ride back to the Rainsworth manor. _I'll have to find the contractor quickly..._

* * *

"Why did you want to come with me today?" Gil asked quietly as they walked through the streets of Reveil. Oz was silent, and he glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye.

"I…" Oz frowned, looking down. His fingers clenched around the hem of his shirt. "I didn't...want to be….alone…" he mumbled at last, his shoulders rising with tension. His cheeks reddened.

Gil stopped walking, catching the boy's shoulder gently and pulling him to the edge of the street, where it was less crowded. "Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his tone gentle. Something about the way Oz had spoken just didn't sit right with him….

"N-No!" Oz's posture fell even further. "I-I mean...please, don't worry about me. Everything's alright."

"Are you sure?" Gil couldn't keep the sternness of anxiety from creeping into his voice.

"Mm-hmm…"

But Oz still wouldn't meet his eyes.

Instead, his gaze seemed to catch on something across the street. His eyes brightened, and he slipped out of Gil's grasp and darted into the crowd. Terror streaked through Gil's chest, and he stumbled after the boy, getting dirty looks from passerby as he pushed through them in a desperate search of Oz's fluffy blond head.

Finally he found him, crouched in the entrance of a small ally. Relief surged through him. "Oz! Thank goodness I—"

Oz turned, his eyes wide and bright, a fluffy grey kitten cradled in his arms. Gil's blood froze.

 _Not here._

 _Not here. Not here, not now, please,_ please _not here. Not a cat._ He sucked in a shaky breath. Oz's expression had dimmed slightly with confusion.

"Isn't he perfect, Raven? It's been so long since I got to play with a cat…" He blushed, glancing down to stroke the top of the kitten's head.

Gil clenched his fists tightly around his sleeves, trying to control his frantic heartbeat. He imagined his feet were glued to the street, and he wouldn't be able to move them if he tried. _It's just a cat,_ he told himself desperately. He could _not_ allow Oz to see his fear.

Cats were terrifying creatures, but somehow, most of the population seemed unable to understand the horror of them. A fear of cats was uncommon; Oz would see through him immediately.

He swallowed down the nausea that had begun to creep up his throat. Oz looked up at him quizzically. "Is something wrong?" There was a calculating sharpness hidden in his gaze.

"N—" It came out as more of a squeak. He cleared his throat, tugging on the brim of his hat to hide the sweat that had begun to build on his forehead. "No. I-It's nothing. I was worried you'd gotten lost in the crowd, please don't run off like that again."

Oz lowered his head, his arms tightening around the kitten. "I'm sorry…" The cat mewled softly, reaching up with its tiny tongue to lick his hand. He laughed quietly, stroking under its chin. "Um...would you…." he bit his lip, "...would you mind if I took him with us?"

"Don't."

Oz flinched, taking a step back. When he looked up again, he examined Gil's face closely. "B-But why not?"

"It's too dangerous, you...you wouldn't...want it to get hurt, would you?" He moistened his lips, still hiding beneath the shadow of his hat.

"I won't let anything happen to him! I'm a chain, Lord Raven, I can take care of him..." His eyes were bright and wet.

"But how would you feel if something happened to it because you insisted on taking it with us? What if you lost control of _yourself?_ What then?" Gil snapped. It was a low blow, he knew, but the heat of terror was swirling through his mind and consuming _everything—_

Oz made a small, choked sound. Gil glanced up in surprise as the boy stumbled back, into the ally wall, unshed tears glistening behind his eyes.

"H-Hey, I—"

Oz shook his head, burying his face in the fluffy fur and wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. "I-I'm sorry. Let's go."

Gil watched him anxiously for a moment, but the kitten decided then to look up at him, and he turned away with a shudder.

* * *

The market was cold, the air thick with the wetness that came with autumn rain. Gil glanced back every now and then, making sure Oz was still doing alright. The boy looked exhausted, but he trailed silently after Gilbert.

"Hey," Gil murmured, leaning back against the brick wall of a small pastry shop. Oz stopped beside him, staring down at the ground and scuffing at a puddle with the toe of his boot. "Why don't we rest for a bit, hmm? I'll get you something to eat while I ask around."

Oz looked into the shop, and Gil didn't miss the way his eyes locked onto the cookies a man at a nearby table was eating. "You don't have to do that, Lord Raven." He said, looking away again. "I came with you against your will, you shouldn't have to spend extra time and money on me."

"I want to," Gil said firmly through clenched teeth, taking off his hat and plopping it onto the boy's head. "Wait here." He slipped into the small shop and strode to the counter, his cool expression and stern demeanor drawing more than a few stares.

"Do you have any apple crisp cookies?" He kept his voice low.

The young woman behind the counter stared up at him in surprise. "I-I...I don't think we have a batch out right now, but….I'm sure I can make some for you…" She swallowed, glancing away, her cheeks reddening. "Do you have any specifications?"

Gil shook his head, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat and fiddling with the loose pieces of lint he found inside. "N-No thank you, they're fine as they come."

She nodded shyly and vanished into the kitchen.

Gil leaned against the counter, ducking his head to avoid the odd looks he kept getting. He desperately wished he hadn't left his hat with Oz...

Speaking of Oz...Gil glanced out the window, relieved to find the small blond where he'd left him, sitting on one of the outdoor tables. He was fiddling with Gil's hat, keeping it low over his face and running his fingers along the weathered brim. His shoulders were slumped. Gil's brows drew together into a slight frown. He wished Oz would tell him what he was thinking….

"Sorry to keep you waiting," He turned, and the young woman smiled up at him, her cheeks still stained a light pink. She held out a small bag filled with perfectly baked apple crisp cookies. He smiled weakly, dropping his money onto the counter, taking the pastries, and sweeping from the shop, away from all the prying gazes.

Oz had moved from the table to one of the chairs, his face long and shadowed with thought. Gil dropped the bag of crisps onto the table. Oz glanced up, his eyes widening with surprise. He took the bag into his hands slowly, examining the treats as though he was unsure of his senses.

"Lord Raven...you didn't have to…." He pulled the bag open gently, taking a crisp out and inspecting it in awe. "Apple crisps are my _favorite…"_

Gil looked away. "I didn't know."

Oz lowered the small bag to his lap, dipping his head so the hat shadowed his face. "There's no way I'll be able to repay you…"

Gil shook his head quickly. "Please, you really don't have to worry about it. I'm…" he swallowed, the words tasting bitter in his throat, "I'm a Nightray, some cookies aren't any trouble."

Oz's brow furrowed, but his gaze remained on the crisps in his lap, conflicted.

Clearing his throat, Gil pushed the chair he'd been leaning on against the little table. He could still feel the watchful eyes of some of the patrons of the shop. "I'll be nearby, alright? I'm just going to ask around a bit while you rest."

Oz nodded, placing one of the pastries into his mouth carefully. Gil didn't miss the way his eyes glowed at the familiar taste, but he pretended it didn't make his heart flutter with joyful nostalgia.

"Please be careful, I'll be around, but I might not always be able to see you. I've just been getting this weird feeling…"

Oz glanced up at him, then back down at the apple crisp in his hands. "I will. Thank you, Lord Raven."

Gil frowned anxiously at him, forcing himself to tear his gaze away as he slipped into the crowd.

"Excuse me," He tapped a well-to-do looking young man on the shoulder, "Have heard anything about the recent murders here in the city?"

The man frowned at him in surprise, his eyes narrowing. "No, I haven't! Now, I really must be off, you'll have to excuse me, Sir Nightray." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his waistcoat and pushed past Gilbert. Gil watched his hunched shoulders disappear into the crowd, his stomach fluttering uncomfortably. _What was that about…?_

He tried again with the few others who were willing to talk to him, but the results were similar. He sighed, clutching worriedly at the small locket hidden beneath his shirt.

" _They're scared, Raven,"_ Sharon's voice reached him softly, and he jumped. A few passerby glanced at him oddly.

"I forgot you were watching," Gil whispered, his cheeks reddening.

" _I'm sure you'll find something eventually,"_ Sharon said gently. He could vaguely make out a faint Break-ish snicker in the background, and he was suddenly grateful only Sharon could see him.

"Thank you, Lady Sharon," he mumbled. "I'll do my best…" Gil glanced through the crowd, relieved to find Oz still sitting at the table snacking on his crisps, the light of the setting sun painting his face with gold. Smiling softly to himself, Gil set to his task.

* * *

Oz fiddled with the bag of pastries in his hands. The treats smelled warm and comforting, and for a moment Oz allowed himself to pretend that Oscar had taken him and Gilbert to the city to shop for the afternoon, to imagine that everything was still as it should be, and that Gilbert was still beside him, smiling and soft. Raven's hat felt heavy on his head, forcing him back to reality. This _is how things are meant to be,_ he reminded himself, his fingers brushing over one of the cookies as thoughts of Gilbert's apple crisps crept into his mind. He tried to force them away.

Where was Gilbert now? Was he happy? Did he miss Oz? The boy scoffed. _Probably not, I only ever caused him trouble…_ But still, he desperately hoped his valet was safe, and doing well. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the Abyss—it couldn't've been _too_ long, for Break didn't seem any older—but he wondered how his family had taken his disappearance. He hoped Oscar and Gil didn't blame themselves…

A subtle whispering pressed against the back of his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the sound away. It faded, but only slightly.

Oz sighed, taking a bite of the cookie in his hand and gazing out at the crowded square. There was an illegal contractor out there somewhere, and he and Raven would encounter it eventually.

The thought made his stomach twist.

He looked down at his crisp, his eyebrows pulling together thoughtfully. Raven was kinder than he'd initially assumed, and he seemed to put a great deal of importance in Oz's safety. But still….there was something about him...Oz feared angering the man, but Raven's behavior spoke of nothing but kindness, and the two feelings seemed to tear his mind in two.

On one hand, Raven was tall, and severe looking; a Nightray, who'd formed a contract with the family's powerful chain. His presence oozed darkness and irritation. But...on the other hand….he'd spent an afternoon in the library reading with Oz, he'd stayed by his side while he slept, bought him cookies….there was a gentleness hidden behind that unwelcoming gaze.

He lifted his cookie to his lips, glancing out into the crowd in hopes of catching a glimpse of the black-clad man, but instead, his eyes locked onto a small head of fluffy auburn hair. Oz almost dropped the crisp in surprise.

It was Philip West, a young boy who'd gone to work for a colleague of Baron Henry after his family's bankruptcy. They'd met through a dinner party, bonding instantly, as they were the youngest servants in attendance. Philip was the only friendly company he'd had during the three months of his kidnapping, and he'd often wondered what had become of the boy after his return to the Vessalius manor.

 _You abandoned him,_ a smooth voice breathed into his mind, dark and thick like melted chocolate. Oz's fingers tightened around his cookie. He forced the voice away.

Philip disappeared into the shadows, the evening half-light swallowing him whole. Oz's stomach fluttered excitedly, itching to go after him. He bit his lip. Raven had told him to stay put...He glanced around for the Nightray, but the man was nowhere to be found. Philip was getting away…

Oz stood slowly, the excitement in his stomach churning into anxiety. He just wanted to say hello. He'd only be a minute. He stuffed the bag of cookies into his pocket and hurried after the boy.

* * *

Gil sighed, leaning back against a street corner. The sun had all but vanished behind the horizon, and all he'd managed to find out was that the contractor only struck at night, which he'd already assumed. _What a waste of time..._

The crowds were dissipating, anxiety about the recent murders clearing the streets as darkness fell. Gil straightened, raising his chin to see across the street, to where he'd left Oz. His stomach dropped; the little table was empty. He frantically scanned the crowd, his pulse racing, barely able to feel relieved when he caught sight of his hat as Oz darted down a narrow side street.

Gilbert's legs shook as he stumbled after the blond, his breath coming fast and shallow. People staggered out of his way, gaping at him like he was a madman.

The chain...there was a chain somewhere out there, a chain that only struck at night, and now, _now_ was the time Oz had chosen to run off? He shakily swallowed back the nausea that tried to crawl up his throat.

 _I just got you back...I can't….I_ won't _lose you again!_

* * *

"Philip! Hey!" Oz's feet echoed softly against the damp cobblestone. Night was all around them now, and he struggled to make out Philip's hair in the darkness. He could just barely see the boy turn, his eyes lighting up as he saw Oz.

"Oz! Wow, it's been awhile, how are you?" He stopped, allowing Oz to come beside him. His face glowed happily in the faint light of the distant street lamps.

Oz smiled gently, fishing the cookies out of his pocket and holding them out to the boy. "I've been alright. Would you like one?"

Philip beamed at him, plucking one of the crisps from the bag and popping it into his mouth. "Thank you!"

Leaning back against the wall, Oz gazed down at the younger boy. "I'm sorry I disappeared on you, Philip." The stone felt chilled against his skin.

Philip mimicked him, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. "You couldn't control anything that happened, don't blame yourself." His childish voice was weary and sad. Oz looked away.

"How've you been?"

Philip rested his head against the cool stone and gazed out at the sliver of sky they could see between the rooftops. "I've been good, actually. Master killed my father when he couldn't pay his debt one month, and I ran away."

Oz's eyes widened, and he turned to look at the boy. "Oh, _Philip,_ I'm so—"

Philip's eyes were distant, but he smiled. "It's alright. Without my father, I didn't owe anything to my master anymore! I've really been enjoying the freedom. Master was angry, though, and he sent another noble after me with his chain." Philip looked down at his hands. "They sent me to the Abyss."

A sudden chill washed over Oz's skin. "The...Abyss….?" he said slowly, his brows furrowing. "How did you escape?"

"Mm-hmm. I wandered out after a while. There was an open gateway, and I just...walked right through."

Oz couldn't shake the odd feeling that had fallen over him. "Where….did you come out?"

"Sablier. There's a big whole in the center of the city, I think it must connect to the Abyss somehow. Anyway, the city was pretty destroyed, so I took a wagon here to look for work." He smiled up at Oz.

A sudden wave of sickness twisted into Oz's gut. He stiffened. "Hey, Philip, let's go somewhere else, alright? Somewhere more...open…."

The little boy tilted his head in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

Oz swallowed thickly. "Have you….heard the talk about an illegal contractor that's been killing people in this city lately?" His stomach churned, his skin prickling as the faint presence of another chain filled the air.

Philip laughed. "But you're a chain too, right? I'm sure you can protect me." He grinned, the half-light hitting his face oddly.

"Philip—"

"Oz!" Hurried footsteps echoed hollowly against the cobblestone.

Oz whirled around, his face ashen. "L-Lord Raven!"

Raven skidded to a stop beside them, his eyes frantic. He grabbed Oz's shoulders fiercely. "How could you just run off like that? I told you not to go anywhere!" His face was wild with fear.

Oz shrank back, struggling to calm his frenzied heartbeat. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—"

Raven's hand locked around his wrist, tugging him forward. "Come on, we have to get out of here, there's a chain nearby—"

"I _know!"_ Oz said breathlessly, "Lord Raven, wait! We can't just leave Philip!" He tried to keep his balance against the stronger man's pull.

Raven turned, his angry gaze burning Oz's skin. "Who?"

Philip peered out from behind Oz, his eyebrows raised curiously as he inspected Raven. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "I know somewhere we can go! Come with me!" He spun on his heel, flashing Oz an excited smile.

Gasping, Oz jerked his arm from Raven's grip, a fresh wave of terror shooting through his chest. "Philip, wait!" He darted after the boy into the darkness, barely registering Raven's cry of his name and the man's footsteps thundering behind his own.

Philip led them out into a small circular area behind some buildings, his auburn illuminated faintly as the moon peered out at them from behind the clouds. Oz stumbled to his side, catching the boy's hand anxiously. The ominous presence had grown to a suffocating intensity.

"Philip please, let's go back to the main street, the contractor's nearby, I can _feel_ it—"

Philip laughed. "But isn't that what you're here for?" His eyes were bright in the moonlight. The sickness in Oz's gut was suddenly overwhelming. He let go of Philip's hand, taking a stumbling step back.

"Philip…"

The small boy looked down, a serene smile gracing his lips. "I was sad at first, when my father died." He met Oz's wide eyes, two pairs of green locking together. "But now….I'm not sad anymore!"

A shape materialized behind him, large and round, with hollow black eyes and a huge, gaping mouth that dripped with blood. Oz's mouth went dry, his blood freezing in his veins. "Humpty...Dumpty…."

The chain lunged.

"Oz!" screamed Raven, lurching forward, but Oz ducked out of the way of the flying tongue just in time. He spun on his heel, staggering away from Philip in horror.

"Why...Philip, _why_ would you—" The tongue flicked out again, and Oz threw himself to the side, barely managing to avoid it again.

Raven darted in front of him, raising his gun furiously, but Oz grabbed the back of his coat. "Wait! Don't kill him!" His fingers trembled as they clenched the thick fabric.

Raven turned to stare at him, his golden eyes piercing and stormy. "He's a murderer, Oz!" The chain whipped it's tongue at them, taking advantage of the man's distraction, and smacked Raven hard against the chest.

"Raven!" Oz gasped, watching anxiously as the man staggered to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he raced toward Philip, ducking under Humpty's body to grip the little boy's arm. "Philip, please—" The chain whirled around, his tongue snaking around Oz's waist and throwing him back. Oz cried out, his body sliding painfully over the wet cobblestone.

He glanced up just in time to see Raven's bullets tear through Humpty's body. Philip cried out, stumbling back and gripping his chest painfully. Oz's stomach dropped in horror. _The seal's already that far?_

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself off the ground, his scythe materializing in his outstretched hand. Raven's eyes widened. Humpty Dumpty paused a moment, seemingly unsure of who to attack first, but finally swirled toward Oz, it's wide mouth open hungrily. " _ **If I can just kill B-Rabbit—"**_ Oz slid to the side, nearly slipping in a puddle from the afternoon's rain. He twisted his scythe forward, cutting sharply across Humpty's side and squeezing his eyes shut as if it would somehow block out Philip's scream.

 _Our only chance is to kill the chain. Maybe the seal isn't too far yet. Maybe I can still save him…_

A quick stream of bullets sped toward Humpty, but the chain was fast, and only a few hit. Growling furiously, Raven ducked under a sudden sweep of the chain's tongue to reload his gun. Oz bit his lip, darting forward with his scythe raised in hopes of distracting the chain, but Humpty Dumpty spun away from him. It's tongue flashed out, catching Raven's leg and jerking him upward. Oz watched, horrified, as the chain threw Raven higher, releasing him and allowing his body to plunge back down.

He flung one of his chains toward the man, but Humpty smacked it off course with his tongue. Raven's body hit the ground with a dull thud.

Oz's heart hammered against his chest. Raven didn't move. Oz's fingers tightened around his scythe, and he pushed his quivering legs to run, sidestepping the chain's attack and slamming the scythe into one of Humpty Dumpty's eyes. Philip screamed, pressing his hands to his face and sinking to his knees.

Oz faltered.

Humpty's tongue thrust forward, piercing Oz's stomach with a thick squelch. Oz gasped, doubling over. His vision blurred.

"Oz!" Raven's voice was hoarse, his head raised weakly, golden eyes wide with horror.

Humpty Dumpty tugged it's tongue from the wound and flicked it upward, slashing Oz's side. Oz stumbled to the side, his legs buckling. He crumpled, blood pouring over his fingers as he curled in on himself, pressing his hands to the wounds. He struggled to breathe through the hot pain that crawled through his body.

Raven staggered to his feet, his gun shaking in his hands. Humpty raised its tongue to strike Oz again, but Raven stumbled toward it, firing his gun furiously, his aim shaky. The chain was only distracted for a moment, but it was long enough for Raven to throw himself in front of the attack. He cried out as the sharp tongue slammed him back into one of the alley walls, his head cracking against the thick stone.

Raven's body slumped to the ground, his gun tumbling from his hands.

Humpty floated to the man's side, its mouth spreading into a feral grin. Phillip lurched to his feet, his small body swaying wearily as snatched up the fallen gun and staggered to stand before Raven. A choked sob slid from the man's throat as Humpty slashed its tongue across his chest.

Philip laughed.

Oz's breath came ragged and shallow, tearing painfully through his lungs. His mind felt muddled, his vision blurring and fading from tears and pain. _Raven's going to die._

 _I'm going to die._

 _Philip's going to_ die. A helpless wail tore from his lips, salty tears crawling down his cheeks and into his mouth.

 _We're all going to die._

 _And its all my fault._

Oz watched lifelessly as Humpty's tongue tangled into Raven's hair, yanking him upward. Fragile moonlight streaked down upon them, glinting off of the two silver chains that hung from Raven's throat. Oz's gaze locked onto the small silver and blue locket that clattered against the Blood Mirror.

His heart stopped.

Humpty Dumpty slammed Raven's face into the ground. The man struggled to push himself up, blood running down his forehead and into his eyes.

Philip raised the gun to Raven's forehead.


	5. Chapter Four: Fog

**A/N: I finished this a few weeks ago but the writing was so bad I just couldn't bring myself to try and edit it. But today's Gilly's birthday so I had to finish it! (This means that all the editing was done just now, so sorry for any mistakes or terrible writing)**

 **I forgot to reply to** _Era's_ **review last time and I've felt bad about it since I last posted ;-; Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed my stories enough to return! I'm mad at myself for starting the reveal so early...I had a lot of things planned for Gil's hidden identity, but I just can't get my thoughts to flow clearly with this story and I felt like I was going to end up dragging it out...ugh**

 **Happy Birthday Gil!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _Now that I know what I'm without_

 _You can't just leave me_

 _Breathe into me and Make me real_

— _Bring Me to Life, Evanescence—_

* * *

Oz's heart pounded against his chest, his blood rushing loudly in his ears, but the whispering in his head had become a breathy roar that couldn't be drowned out. Everything was spinning; his eyes refused to focus. His thoughts were jumbled, hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

There was a quiet rumble of thunder in the distance.

Raven had always reminded him of Gil. Raven had always reminded him of Gil, but he wasn't Gil, because Gil was fourteen years old, short, and thin. Gil was shy; afraid of his own shadow, he'd never use a gun. Gil was terrified of cats, he would've run the moment Oz turned around with that kitten in his arms. Raven was not Gil.

 _But still…._

Raven raised his head, his ebony hair plastered to his forehead with blood. His eyes were wide, their soft gold glinting in the waning moonlight. Oz took a shuddering breath, blinking away the black spots that dotted his vision. His throat felt raw, the air he took in scraping it roughly and quickly dissipating, never filling his lungs completely.

Spinning, everything was spinning…. _why_ was everything spinning…

Philip grinned, Humpty Dumpty hovering triumphantly behind him. His small frame was illuminated softly in the half-light—like the tears that glittered on Raven's cheeks. Oz grit his teeth, biting back a scream as he tried to drag himself forward with trembling arms, but his hands slipped in the slick blood that had pooled beneath him and he collapsed. "N-No…"

 _But still..._

Philip's fingers tightened on the gun.

A strangled sob tore from Oz's throat, his vision swimming.

Raven—No. _Gil._

 _Gil_ was going to _die—_

* * *

Philip stood over Gil, his gray-green eyes glinting in the darkness, the smile stretching across his face nothing like the innocence his small body spoke of. _For a child to grow desperate enough to contract a chain…_

But no. It didn't matter anymore.

Philip was going to kill him, and then he was going to kill Oz. Salty tears dripped down into his mouth, but Gil raised his head to meet Philip's eyes. _I'm sorry._

There was a quiet click as his fingers curled around the trigger.

Philip's body jerked, a choked gasp climbing from his throat as a sharp chain pierced his chest, hot blood splattering Gilbert's cheeks. The gun clattered to the ground, Philip's hands flying to his chest instinctively to grab at the sharp blade that protruded from his skin. It was slick with blood, thick droplets pooling at the tip and dripping onto the cobblestone.

Gil watched, wide eyed, as the boy's body crumpled, his knees buckling completely beneath him. His body hit the ground with a wet thud. Blood dribbled down over his lips, a wet gurgle building in this throat.

The first few drops of rain began to trickle down, sprinkling softly into wide, dead eyes.

There was a quiet slap against the pavement.

Gasping, Gil whipped his gaze toward Oz, whose arm was outstretched toward him, his fingers quivering and dark with blood. Gil's breath caught in his chest, his heart freezing. There was a moment of stillness, but Oz's frame trembled as he pushed himself weakly onto his back.

"O-Oz!" He scrambled to his feet, stumbling quickly to the boy's side and dropping to his knees. Oz's breath came ragged and shallow, quick with panic. Gil hovered over him anxiously, blinking the blood from his eyes.

Oz's face was deathly white, blood smeared across his cheeks from falling into the puddle that had gathered beneath him. His eyes were huge, unseeing, locked on the sky, and Gil's heart skipped a beat; one eye was dull, glassy, green, the other a deep shade of crimson.

He stared down at his master, at the tears that pooled in his eyes and dribbled down those pale cheeks, his hands hovering anxiously over the shivering body. Oz was gasping, his entire frame shaking with the force of each attempted breath.

Gil leaned over him worriedly, gritting his teeth against the throbbing of his head. His thoughts felt sluggish, and he struggled to focus his mind on the tattered body beside him. The blood staining Oz's torso sent his head spinning. With trembling fingers, Gil tore a strip from his already tattered shirt, lifting Oz gently to wrap it as tightly as he dared around the boy's stomach. The wound sent memories of the first time Oz had been injured flashing through his mind, and his heart twisted with regret.

There was a hurried slap of shoes on the wet stone, but Gil didn't take his eyes off of Oz's bloodied frame, not even when the footsteps slowed, a quiet gasp that could only belong to Sharon seemingly loud in the still air. A hand brushed his shoulders, but he jerked his body away.

"You said you would come—" His voice broke, tears filling his eyes as he took in Oz's frozen expression, his shuddering gasps piercing the night.

Someone held an umbrella over his head.

"I'm sorry." Break's voice was soft, and so sincere that Gil twisted around to look up at him, his eyes wide. The hatter's eye was narrowed regretfully, his face solemn. A sick feeling slid into Gil's stomach.

Sharon gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I was trying, but something was interfering with Equus' abilities." Her slender fingers tightened around the fabric of his coat. "I had to call it back to me before I could take us here. And even then, we were transported into the main square…"

Gil only half-registered the worried glance Break sent in her direction.

Break knelt beside Oz, looking him over sombrely. "I had a feeling something like this might happen." He looked up at Gil from beneath his eyelashes.

Gil's eyes narrowed. "But you still insisted I take him with me? Are you _trying_ to get him killed?"

"It's better that it was here with you when it happened." His tone was cool, all sincerity lost from his expression.

"When _what_ happened, exactly?" Gil took Oz's hand in his, biting his lip at the sticky blood that stained the boy's fingers. He'd been too slow, if only he'd been able to defeat Humpty sooner….

Break shook his head. "We don't have time. You can ask me later. Right now, My Lady, would you mind bringing us back?" He glanced down at Oz, whose eyes had fallen shut, his breathing evening out as he slipped into unconsciousness. "The interference should no longer be an issue."

* * *

Gil traced his fingers gently along Oz's wrist, new relief surging through him with each beat of Oz's heart. The boy's face was serene, though still paler than Gil would've liked. Both of their wounds had been treated and wrapped by the Rainsworth servants, and Oz had been dressed in one of Gil's shirts. It was huge on him, nearly reaching his knees. Gil's heart ached to think that there was a time when his clothes would've been too small for Oz.

He swallowed thickly, leaning in to brush his fingers through the soft blond hair and tuck it away from his master's face. Oz's image blurred before his eyes, and he fought to keep them open, an odd haze still lingering over his mind from the fight. Sighing quietly, Gil pressed his lips to Oz's chilled fingers and rested his head on the bed beside the boy's hand.

* * *

"Raven?"

Gil's eyes shot open, immediately blinking in surprise at the harsh sunlight creeping in through the window. "A-Ah...wha...S-Sharon?"

She frowned anxiously at him as he sat up, rubbing wearily at his eyes. "Did you stay here all night?"

Gil nodded, glancing at Oz. The boy was still asleep, curled on one side, his golden hair falling softly across his cheeks. His face held more color in the morning glow than it had the night before.

"Raven...I know you're worried, but you're injured as well. You need to get a better rest than this..." Sharon gently placed her hand on his head. He reached up and took it in his own.

"I didn't want him to wake up alone."

Sharon sighed softly, squeezing his hand before releasing it to fold her arms. "There's someone here to see you,"

Gil frowned, scanning Oz's still frame anxiously. "Can't you tell them I'm busy?"

Sharon bit her lip. "I'm afraid if I do, he'll come looking for you on his own. I'm not sure you'd want Oz to wake up to that either..."

Gil's stomach fluttered uncomfortably. His headache still hadn't faded, in fact, the sleep almost seemed to have made it more apparent. He sighed, "...Alright…" He gave Oz's hand a faint brush with his own and followed her from the room.

Sharon led him to a small sitting room, the curtains wide open to allow the bright morning sunlight to pour in, drenching the room's occupant in a golden glow. He turned, the light painting softly across his fair skin.

Gil froze in the doorway.

The blond young man smiled widely, his mismatched eyes lighting up as he made his way to Gil's side, his arms outstretched for a hug.

"Big Brother!"

* * *

When Oz woke, the first thing he noticed was that he was alone.

He frowned into the sunlight, his thoughts a mess of rain, and screaming, and blood. _What happened…?_

The chain piercing Philip's small body filled his mind, and he flinched.

Golden eyes filled his vision and sent his heart his heart pounding. He had acted in desperation; the mere _thought_ of Philip killing Gilbert while he was made to watch making his head spin all over again.

But...Had it really been Gil?

What if he'd misjudged the situation? There could be hundreds of that same locket circulating through the markets. Maybe Gil had even sold his own….

What if he'd killed Philip for nothing? Nausea swirled in his gut, a churning burn that threatened to climb up his throat. He swallowed thickly. _But no..._ That locket, it had been handmade, he was sure of it. It was one of a kind.

 _In that case..._ His blood ran cold. If Raven was _Gil_ ….just how long had he been in the Abyss?

He struggled to catch his breath, an odd chill creeping over his skin. Raven was tall, and sinister looking. His eyes held a strange darkness that prevented Oz from reading him as easily as he'd always been able to read Gil.

What had happened while Oz was gone to make him like this? Gil was always so happy and kind, but Raven had been willing to kill Philip right away, and he was working for _Pandora…._

Gritting his teeth, Oz flung himself from his bed, gasping as sharp pain shot through his stomach and side. But he managed to stay on his feet, and he forced himself to stagger out into the hall.

* * *

"Vince, I—" Gil broke off, following his brother's gaze. Oz stumbled into the room, his eyes wide and frantic. He was clad only in Gil's shirt, the sleeves so long they covered his hands. Nearly falling, he leaned heavily against the wall to keep his balance.

Oz's gaze locked on Gil and he lurched toward him, grabbing onto the lapels of his coat with quivering fingers. "H-How long?"

Gil stared at him, startled by their sudden proximity. Oz's face was ashen. "Wh...What?"

Oz shook him weakly, gasping heavily, nearly hyperventilating. "The Abyss! _How long?"_ Realization sank into Gil's gut like a stone.

"Oh."

He bit his lip, averting his gaze. For a moment, the only sound was Oz's ragged breathing. Gil swallowed. "Ten years."

Oz's legs buckled beneath him, his eyes widening. A choked gasp slid from his lips. Gil sank to his knees along with him, gripping the boy's hands tightly. "O-Oz!"

"O-Oh…" Oz's arm flew to cover his mouth. " _Oh."_

Gil squeezed his hands gently, terror coursing through him. "H-Hey, Oz?"

Oz shook his head, tears spilling out over his cheeks. "I'm sorry! I-I'm….I'm...so _sorry…"_ He tried to pull his hands away from Gil, but the man held on tightly. Oz buried his face in his arms, his low wail muffled by the sleeves of Gil's shirt. He could feel Oz's rapid pulse thundering through his veins.

Gil stared at him helplessly. He'd been trying to avoid telling Oz the truth, and now that it had happened, he was at a loss for how to comfort the boy. There was a quiet chuckle from behind him. Oz went rigid. Anxiety coursed through Gil's chest, and he turned, ready to reproach his brother, when Oz lifted his face, his eyes wide.

"Vincent?"

Gil whipped his head back toward Oz, gasping in surprise.

The boy's expression had morphed to one of horror, as though he were looking at a dead man walking. Oz stared up at the older blond, his face deathly pale. "Does he—"

"No." Vincent's voice was sharp. He leaned in, his golden hair falling forward and obscuring Oz's face from Gil's view. "And I trust you'll keep it that way."

Oz nodded frantically, looking like he might be sick. Gil scowled, a thread of unease curling into his stomach. "You two have met before?"

Vince smiled cryptically. " _Oh,_ that's not something Gil needs to know..." He stroked his fingers through Gil's hair, his eyes glittering. Gil ducked away, releasing Oz's hands. His fogged mind attempted feebly to understand the meaning behind their words.

Oz, still staring at Vincent, made to stand, but he gasped, curling around his stomach. Gil immediately wrapped an arm around the thin boy's shoulders, helping him carefully to his feet.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed. You shouldn't have been so careless..."

Oz shook his head, his face chalky with pain. Sweat was beading on his forehead. Gil began to take a step, pulling Oz against him, but his feet wouldn't catch their footing, and he would've brought both himself and Oz to the ground if it hadn't been for Vincent. Both blonds were looking at him oddly, Vincent's eyes narrowed with concern, Oz's eyes wide and fearful.

He laughed shakily, gently brushing Oz's hair from his eyes, and pushed himself to walk in a straight line, despite the way his vision blurred and doubled. Vincent kept his hand on his back all the way to Oz's room, leaning on the doorframe with his arms folded.

Gil rummaged through the wardrobe in search of the bandages he was certain he'd seen inside the previous night, using the opportunity to rest against the wooden frame. With a sigh, he straightened, and slipped past Vincent and into the hall, calling behind him, "I'll be right back, I'm just getting some bandages."

Vincent watched him go, and once his brother was out of sight, he slid into the room, leaning over Oz and catching the boy's shoulder with one hand. Oz stared up at him in surprise.

"I think," he said quietly, his lips so close they nearly brushed Oz's ear, "that we both have my brother's best interests in mind." His tone was poisonous. "And I think you also know….Your presence here is only a danger to him."

Oz stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. _He did know._ _He'd known it all along._ His fingers tightened around the sheets. Gil's sheets.

"It would be best for Gil if you were no longer here."

Oz pressed his fingers to his mouth. _Of course it would._

Hurried footsteps pattered down the hall, and Vincent retreated quickly. Gil sent his brother a curious look as he entered the room, but any odd behavior was quickly forgotten as he sat himself carefully on the edge of Oz's bed.

"Can you take the shirt off please?" He paused. "Or do you need help?"

Oz wouldn't meet his eyes, flinching in pain as he tried to lift his arms to remove Gil's shirt. The man's expression saddened as he watched, and without saying a word, he reached in and slipped the oversized shirt from Oz's thin frame.

Oz's torso was nearly covered in bandages, and the ones around his stomach were reddening with fresh blood. Gil cringed, leaning in to tug at the bandages, withdrawing fearfully every time Oz moved. The gaping wound stared angrily out at him, and it's resemblance to Oz's first stomach wound, over ten years ago, sent nausea spinning through his stomach. He took a deep breath, glancing at Oz, but the boy wouldn't look at him, his face gray.

"Hey, are you alright?" Oz nodded, swallowing thickly. He reached up to push Gil's bangs away from his face, his eyes oddly distant.

"I'm fine."

Gil's brows furrowed, but Oz looked away again, and he forced his quivering hands back to the task, wrapping the fresh bandages tightly around the bloody hole in his master's body. To his relief, it was already beginning to heal, incredibly faint pink skin visible at the edges of the wound as the Abyssal energy within Oz's body revitalized it.

He sighed, getting up to wash his hands and throw away the old bandages before returning to Oz's side. His head was throbbing, odd spots flashing at the edges of his vision, and he steadied himself on the edge of the bed. "Is there anything else I can get you?" Oz shook his head, staring down at his hands, clenched tightly around the sheets in his lap. Something about his posture sent alarm bells ringing in Gil's head, but the fog in his mind covered them too quickly for him to register the worry completely.

"Alright, if you're sure." He carefully helped Oz slip the shirt back over his shoulders, rolling up the sleeves to the boy's elbows so they wouldn't be in the way. He ran a weary hand through his hair. "I'm going to talk to Sharon, but I'll be back soon, okay? Try to get some rest." Oz nodded, his hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes.

Vincent followed his brother from the room, his mismatched eyes glinting sharply as he sent Oz one last glance.

Oz waited until their footsteps had faded completely before sliding from the bed. Hot pain curled into his abdomen, but he grit his teeth and stumbled from the room. The hall was a dead end on one side, and so he was forced to follow Gil and Vincent's path.

Everything would be okay.

As soon as he was out of the way, everything would be just fine.

He slunk silently through the empty halls, reaching the wide entry room and spotting the doors after what felt like ages. He would've prefered to take the back door, but the main entrance was so _close—_

"Oz?"

He froze, Gil's voice sending a wave of terror down his spine. He paused only a moment, forcing his trembling legs to move as he made a frantic dash for the door. A stab of pain shot through his chest, and his grit his teeth, one fist clenching around the fabric of his shirt.

Behind him, Gil gasped. "O-Oz?" When the boy didn't stop, there was a sound of books clattering to the ground, and hurried footsteps pounding the carpet behind him. "H-Hey, wait!"

"Oz!"

Oz didn't stop, throwing the doors open and flinging himself down the stairs despite Gil's cries. His head was pounding, every thought overridden by the need to escape. Vincent's words echoed in his mind, merging with the faint whispering hiss that had begun to creep through his head. His breath puffed out before him in the chilled air, the wind scraping roughly against his throat.

Gil's footsteps pounded the concrete behind him, and Oz pushed himself to move faster, to blink back the frantic tears that blurred his vision. Some slipped out anyway, burning his cheeks in the cold air.

" _Oz!"_ Gil's voice cracked, and the sound of it sent Oz's stomach churning. "Oz _please!"_

Cobblestone paths soon gave way to crunchy deadfall beneath their feet, and Oz stumbled, dizzying pain crawling through his gut. Gil's fingers locked around his arm. "I just got you back, I won't lose you again!"

Oz shook his head, refusing to meet Gilbert's eyes, even when the man forced him to turn with a gentle tug on his arm. His breath came in rapid gasps, his head lowered so his hair fell over his eyes.

"Hey," Gil murmured, leaning close, his stomach churning at the sight of the tears swimming in his master's eyes and curling down his chin. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, alright?"

Oz jerked his arm away. "Don't touch me." He couldn't breathe.

Gil froze, his eyes widening anxiously. He stumbled back, Oz registering for the first time his unfocused gaze. An eerie feeling settled in his stomach, but he forced himself to turn away. Gil reached for him again, and Oz just barely managed to sidestep his grasp.

The whispering in his head rose, his ears ringing oddly.

"Oz, please!" Gil said hoarsely, his face pale. "Just tell me what's going on! Let me help you—"

"Sh-Shut up!" Oz stammered, shaking his head and pressing a hand to his temple. "Just—Just _stop—"_ A fresh wave of pain shot through him and he gasped, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. The whispering had grown so loud he could no longer hear Gil's anxious cry as he lunged forward to steady the boy.

Suddenly, everything went black.

Oz's vision returned just in time to see the chain that flew from his fingertips, which would've decapitated Gil if the raven hadn't jerked to the side in time.

Oz gasped, horrified, falling back hard against the trunk of a nearby tree, his trembling legs no longer strong enough to support him on their own. He pressed his fingers to his mouth, nausea climbing up his throat. "Gil, I—"

Gilbert swayed on his feet, his face deathly pale, sweat beading across his forehead and nose. His eyes were dull, unfocused, his breath coming in shallow pants. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but his eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a heap on the deadfall before he could get the words out.

Oz stared at him in terror, his body shuddering as he struggled to catch his breath.


	6. Chapter Five: Violet

**A/N: There's not a lot of** ** _action_** **in this chapter, so I'm worried it might be a little boring, but I feel like I really got my motivation back through writing it, so I hope it's justified later on. I hope to be able to update faster now that I'm a little more inspired, and I hope this writing makes up for the garbage of chapter four 0-0 (I'll edit it** ** _sometime,_** **but I don't think soon)**

 **Thank you so much to** _Era_ **and** _angelcarstairs4679,_ **I always appreciate your reviews so much, thank you! xD Thank you everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoy :)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _Just when these four walls try to cave in_

 _And the ground underneath starts shaking_

 _It's the hope in your eyes that I cling to_

 _And I hope to God it never leaves you_

— _We're Not Gonna Fall, Daughtry—_

* * *

Oz gasped for breath, his heart pounding frantically. Gil was sprawled on the wet morning grass, his coat pooling around him like a blanket of ink.

Hesitantly, Oz crawled to his side, kneeling beside him and feeling for a pulse with trembling fingers. Gil's skin was cold, clammy in the damp air, and Oz had to close his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the fear that had begun to build in his chest. The pulse that moved through Gil's veins was fluttering and weak, but its presence set some of Oz's anxiety at ease.

Biting his lip, he fisted his hands in Gil's coat and shook him as roughly as he dared. The man's frame flopped with each push, and, with a shaky intake of breath, Oz grit his teeth and pulled Gil's arms over his shoulders. As he stood, he tried to force himself to ignore the way the raven's head lolled against his shoulder.

"Gil please," he said tearfully, "I can't carry you anymore like I used to... _Please_ wake up..." But the man's face remained slack. _If only I hadn't missed so many years...None of this would've happened..._

He stumbled through the forest on trembling legs, his fingers digging into Gil's sleeves as he struggled to keep the man on his back. His torso was on fire, and he had to force himself to ignore the feeling of sticky blood crawling down his stomach. He bit his lip, shifting his weight to keep Gil's cravat from touching the stain that had begun to seep through the fabric of his shirt. His shirt was already ruined.

At last the Rainsworth manor came into view, and Oz allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. A faint drizzle had begun to fall, dusting Oz's hair and cheeks with soft droplets. He hoped Gil's pants and shoes didn't get ruined in the mud.

Vincent rushed from the mansion almost as soon as Oz's feet stumbled out onto the cobblestone path, scooping Gil from his arms and vanishing into the house with a glower in Oz's direction. Oz sank to his knees, damp gravel sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Terror for Gil swirled through his mind, a storm that refused to fade from his thoughts. He closed his eyes, still breathing heavily from the exertion, the faint prick of a headache beginning to nag at the back of his mind.

The rain fell softly into his hair and over his nose, but Oz couldn't feel it.

* * *

Gil frowned, an odd warmth swirling gently across his skin on the summer's breeze. Green leaves rustled softly above, the a bird fluttering from one branch to another. The mansion beside him looked vaguely familiar, woven with a strange nostalgia that he couldn't quite place. _Oz….where was Oz? Hadn't he just been near?_

Fingering the sleeves of his coat anxiously, he set off in the direction of a tall tower toward the edge of the grounds. He wasn't sure how, but he had a strange feeling that Oz would be there. As he drew closer, he was able to make out the faint shouting of children; what sounded like a girl and a young boy. His brows furrowed. So far, he hadn't seen any sign of the mansion's potential occupants. What if they assumed he was an intruder?

Swallowing nervously, he slowed his pace, moving so he was partially obscured by the trees. A girl was partially hanging from the tower window, a curtain of long brown hair dangling beside her. Sudden pain shot through Gil's skull, sharp and fierce.

There was a loud screech of shattering glass, a large crack striking through the cloudless sky. Gil gasped, his vision blurring unexpectedly, and he found himself in the Rainsworth manor, a fuzzy Oz seated beside his bed in the darkness.

Almost as soon as it had appeared, the vision was gone, and he was in the strange mansion's courtyard once more, the brunette girl laughing smugly at a small head of blond hair at the base of the tower.

 _Oz?_ Gil started forward, hope building in his chest, but just as he neared the small boy, the world around him blurred and shifted, faces flashing across his vision, more cracks tearing the sky.

He blinked, but when his eyes opened, the mansion was gone, and he found himself tucked into his bed at the Rainsworth's. He glanced up through bleary eyes, a flash of golden hair glittering in the faint candlelight. He reached out a hand, catching the edge of his companion's coat, but when the blond turned it was Vincent beside him, not Oz. His brows furrowed.

"Big Brother! Oh, I'm so glad you're awake, I was starting to worry!" He leaned forward, reaching in to take Gil's hand gently. His mismatched eyes sparkled.

Gil sat up slowly, pressing a palm to his forehead as he struggled to remember what had happened. Oz had been there….

He stiffened, the image of a chain speeding toward him at Oz's command flashing through his mind. He clutched at the edge of Vincent's robe in panic. "O-Oz! Where….Where's Oz?"

Vincent looked down at him through his eyelashes, an odd expression glazing his features. Anxiety sank into Gil's stomach.

"I haven't seen him." He took Gil's hands gently, but the raven could feel the tension woven through the movement.

Fear coursed through his veins. Hadn't Oz been trying to leave? What if he'd run off and was somewhere out in the world all by himself? Gasping for breath, he tried to push himself from the bed, but Vincent held him down, pressing his shoulders back against the pillows. His eyes were dark and fierce.

"Big Brother, you need to rest, alright? You're hurt, and what's most important right now is making sure you stay safe." He tucked the blankets gently around Gil.

Struggling to calm his frantic heartbeat, Gil caught his brother's wrist. "Vince please, you don't understand—"

"B-Rabbit seemed just fine when he dragged you back here yesterday morning. I'm sure he can live without you for awhile while you regain your strength." His tone was bitter, as though Gil had unintentionally bitten into a poisonous apple.

Gil swallowed. Maybe he had.

Sharon slipped into the room, her face brightening in surprise at Gil's consciousness. She shifted the medical box in her arms so it was resting on one hip. "Raven! It's good to see you've woken up! How are you feeling?"

"Have you seen Oz?" He was unable to keep the panic from his voice.

Her smile dimmed. "Raven, I…" Sharon looked down, her fingers tightening around the small box.

Gil swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "You really….really haven't…?"

Sharon sat lightly on the bed beside his legs, squeezing his hand in a frail attempt at comforting him. "I'm sorry." She patted the box and brushed a hand through her ponytail, laughing tensely. "I'm sure he's alright, though. He seemed okay when he brought you back to the manor."

 _That's what Vincent said too…._ His brows pulled together anxiously. "Did he?" Gil glanced away, unable to quell the worrisome thoughts racing through his already aching head. "How did that….um...How did that go?"

Sharon blinked slightly, confused for a moment at his befuddled wording. "O-Oh! Well, ah…" She clasped her hands, folding them gently in her lap. "It had just started raining, and Big Brother Xerxes and I were in the middle of a game of chess. I was winning, mind you," she sent him a sly glance, "and Vincent seemed quite enamored with the landscape out the window. Just as I was about to make my victorious move, Vincent hurried from the room, instructing us to follow him. When we got down to the main door, there was Master Oz, dragging your prone body along the cobblestone."

Gil flinched. "But you didn't see if he came inside?"

"I'm sorry, Raven." Sharon shook her head softly.

Sighing to himself, Gil sank back into the pillows. He allowed Vincent and Sharon to check his injuries in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of his master.

He was certain he'd seen Oz sitting beside his bed when he'd been dreaming….although...he _had_ only been half-awake, he could've mistaken his brother for the younger boy. The thought made his skin prickle uncomfortably.

Either way, Oz had been a mess before Gil had passed out. He didn't want Oz to be alone, with only Jack's voice whispering things into his mind. His fingers clutched the blankets tightly.

"Gil must be hungry," said Vincent, smiling airily. "I'll go get him something wonderful to keep his strength up." He stood with a flourish, running his fingers through Gil's hair and sweeping from the room.

Gil ignored him. He wasn't sure he could stomach anything right now, not with the anxious storm in his chest and the pounding headache that pressed at his temple.

"You're looking for the brat?"

Gil's head shot up, his stomach fluttering with momentary hope. Break leaned against the doorframe, the corners of his lips turned upward in a cryptic smile. "B-Break!"

"He's camped out in one of the back sitting rooms." Break twirled the pouch at his side absently. "All alone, all night, oh _dear…._ Jack Vessalius must be on the prowl tonight…"

"Break!" cried Sharon, standing sharply.

Gil threw the sheets from his body, grabbing the edge of the nightstand as he stumbled from the bed.

"Please be careful!" Sharon gasped, gripping his arm to steady him. He shot her a grateful glance.

Together, the three of them slipped out into the hall. Break led them through the manor, that odd smile never leaving his lips. After what felt like ages to Gil's racing heart, the hatter stopped at a small sitting room, pressing a finger to his lips.

"A word of caution: Things may have happened that you're unaware of. Be sensitive to those things, or you'll risk pushing your master even further away." He stepped aside.

Gil swallowed, peering around the edge of the doorframe. His heart sagged with relief at the sight of Oz curled on one of the couches, a volume of Holy Knight in his hands. The flickering candlelight sent a soft glow dancing across his skin.

Taking a deep breath, Gil stepped into the room. Oz glanced up, smiling faintly, and Gil's heart twisted in his chest. _That smile...Oz was smiling that smile again…._

"Gil; you're awake, I'm glad."

He moved forward, reaching out uncertainly. He'd been _terrified,_ he was still terrified. "O-Oz, I—"

"Please stay back," Oz was still smiling, but his eyes were blank; dark and glazed. "I don't want to hurt you."

Gil's eyes widened, faint understanding reaching him. "Oz, no…" He stepped forward again, but this time Oz closed his book gently, standing and moving away from him.

"Please listen," he said gently, his patient expression woven with a soft melancholy. "I really don't want you to get hurt, Gil."

Gil grit his teeth, his hair falling over his eyes as he started toward the small blond. Oz backed away, his eyes flickering with worry and surprise, but Gil grabbed his wrist.

"Please stay away from me," Oz murmured, lowering his head and looking away. "Please, can't you just listen, Gil? I don't want you to get hurt again..."

Gil clenched his fist around his sleeve. "Stop…"

"And you really should be resting, don't push yourself, alright? It would be better if I just left—"

"Oz, stop!" Gil snapped, pulling the boy forward sharply by his wrist. Oz flinched, his smile faltering. He still refused to meet Gil's eyes. Fury bubbled in his chest, and he surged forward, catching Oz by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.

"Stop, alright? Just stop!" He could hardly breathe. "I worked for ten _years_ to get you back! I struggled and waited and did everything I could just to be able to be with you again, have you ever even thought about that? I was all alone, Oz! I was all alone…" Oz's eyes were wide, glossed with tears.

Gil gasped shakily, his voice cracking. "...And–And if….you still...want to leave, I….I won't...I won't stop you, but _Oz_ I—" Everything spun for a moment, and he swayed back, Oz's weight the only thing anchoring him from falling over.

"Gil!" Oz grabbed the front of his coat to steady him, his expression frantic. Gil released his shoulders, and Oz stepped back again, out of his reach. He was breathing rapidly, like a cornered animal. "This—This is—Can't you see? If you hadn't moved out of the way in time—" His eyes were huge, unseeing, lost in the moment when the chain had shot from his fingertips. Oz buried his hands in his hair, tugging desperately at the tangled strands.

Gil reached forward anxiously, but Oz shook his head, backing into a bookshelf with a clatter. Gil gasped, moving to his side. "We'll find a way to fix this, everything will be alright."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Gil," said Oz tearfully, his eyes glazed with anguish.

Gil shook his head, wrapping his arms gently around the trembling boy. "I'm not," he breathed, rubbing Oz's back and shoulders lightly. "I'm not. I promise I'll fix everything, okay? So don't worry."

Oz's lower lip quivered, but he nodded faintly, burying his face in Gil's chest. Gil smiled, folding his master into his arms and stroking his hair. "Will you stay, then?"

Oz took a shaky breath. "I….I'll stay as long as...you'll have me…."

"Promise me."

"...I promise…"

"I'll always have you," Gil murmured, resting his chin on Oz's head and closing his eyes. Oz's fingers tightened in Gil's coat.

"Now you have to promise me something, too," he said quietly, his voice muffled by Gil's shirt.

"Hmm?"

"If I…" Oz swallowed. "...If I….start to lose control, and I...tell you to run—"

Gil opened his eyes, his stomach churning. "Oz—"

"If I tell you to run," Oz cut over him, "I want you to run, alright? Promise me?"

"Oz…" Gil shook his head, blinking furiously. It felt like someone had stuffed cotton down his throat.

Oz's voice broke, "Promise?" He squeezed Gil tighter, almost painfully so, his small frame shuddering as he held back tears. Gil bit his lip.

"I-I...I promise," he breathed at last, his heart clenching as Oz sagged against him in relief.

"Thank you," Oz mumbled into his chest, and Gil could hear the smile in his voice. He swallowed back the apprehension that had crept into his chest.

* * *

"Hey, Gil?"

"Mmm?" He glanced down at Oz, twirling a strand of golden hair between his fingers. Oz was curled against his side, his Holy Knight book propped open in his lap. Gil had snagged a random book from the shelf, unable to focus his thoughts for long enough to actually take in the words he read.

Oz looked down, suddenly hesitant. "I'm sorry if it's...insensitive of me to ask, but…." He swallowed. "What happened….while I was in the Abyss? What happened to you?" He played with his fingers nervously.

Gil stared at him in surprise. "Ah…" He fumbled for the right words. _Was it really wise to tell Oz such things?_ _Although….if anyone would understand how he felt, it would be Oz…._

"Break came to find me a few weeks after you...you were….sent away. He claimed there was an adopted son of the Nightray family who was searching for his lost brother, who just _happened_ to look like me and who just _happened_ to be named 'Gilbert.'" He paused, his brows furrowing at the thought of the hurt expression that had come across Oscar's face when Gil had announced his departure. Oz was looking up at him curiously.

"At first, I refused to meet him—the rivalry between the families, and all. I felt like it would be betrayal to Master Oscar and you and everything you'd both done for me. But then…." He swallowed. "But then, Break told me that I could open a pathway to the Abyss if I made a contract with Raven." He glanced at Oz. "That felt like betrayal, too."

Oz made a soft sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh, leaning more heavily against Gil's shoulder. Gil carded his fingers absently through the silky blond hair. "But it was the only hope I had of ever seeing you again, and I was willing to do _whatever_ it took…." He licked his lips, his mouth dry. Oz had flipped his book over, tenting the worn hardcover over his lap.

Gil wished he could see Oz's face. As a chain himself, he was certain the boy understood the implications behind his words. _There it is, out on the table. The truth._

Oz shifted, craning his neck to glance at Gil. Although he tried, Oz was unable to mask the regret that twisted his features. He took Gil's hand, playing absently with his fingers. His hands were trembling.

"Were you lonely?" Oz whispered meekly, like a small child who hardly dared to speak his mind. He focused his attention solely on Gil's fingertips.

Gil watched him silently. The candlelight danced over Oz's hair, casting it in a faint orange glow. He exhaled softly. "I….yeah. I was...lonely."

Oz's hands tightened around his. "I'm sorry."

Gil cringed, stroking Oz's hair in what he hoped was a reassuring manor. "Don't be," But Oz didn't release his hand, he merely stared at it. After a long moment of silence, he pressed their palms together, lowering his head. Gil's hand _dwarfed_ Oz's. He curled his fingers downward, clasping the small hand in his own.

"That's ten years of your life that I just...missed. Completely." He pulled his hand away, clutching at the collar of his shirt with quivering fingers. "I never got to see you grow up, to become someone so _strong…"_ His voice was thick with tears. Gil shifted, setting his book aside and turning Oz to face him; pulling the boy into his arms. He could feel Oz blinking furiously as he struggled to hold back his tears, but Gil simply held him closer, waiting for the walls to break.

And they did, with a muffled wail of despair as Oz released a little of his regret. Gil buried his face in Oz's hair. He smelled dusty and familiar, but there was a metallic tint hiding beneath the calming scents. Gil swallowed.

* * *

Gil swept about the kitchen, grabbing ingredient after ingredient, his apron dusted with flour. Oz was perched on the counter, swinging his legs absently, a soft look of contentment painted across his features.

Smiling to himself, Gil snatched a bowl from beside the oven and thrust it into the boy's arms. "Would you stir this for me, please?"

Oz nodded, humming quietly under his breath as he worked the thick batter. Gil grabbed another bowl, cracking some eggs over the rim and pouring in a little milk. He brushed a strand of hair from his face with the back of his hand. Sharon had finally given Gil permission to resume a few of his usual activities, and he'd decided to repay her by making everyone a small lunch.

"How long do you want me to keep stirring?" Oz wondered, his nose wrinkled slightly with the effort.

"I'll tell you when," Gil said absently, scouring the cupboards for some spices to mix. He eventually found some garlic, sprinkling it into the pot cooking on the stovetop. Leftover egg white shifted as he grabbed the plate he'd set the empty shells on, crawling down the creamy white surface and leaving a faint trail in its wake. Gil stopped, staring down at the slimy coating, his stomach flipping uncomfortably. A thought had been plaguing him since he'd woken a few days prior, but he'd never felt comfortable enough to ask Oz outright. He bit his lip.

"Hey, Oz?"

"Hmm?"

"How are you...doing? About Philip, I mean…" He glanced back over his shoulder, his brows furrowed worriedly.

Oz's stirring slowed, his eyes dim as he gazed down into the mixture. "Philip...would've died soon anyway, whether I had killed him or not." He swallowed thickly. There was an uncertainty hidden beneath his expression.

"He seemed like a good friend of yours," Gil murmured, checking on the boiling pot and leaning against the counter beside Oz.

Oz nodded, smiling wistfully. "He was,"

Gil tilted his head, prompting for more information without pushing the boy to speak.

"He...was there for me during a time when I really felt alone. I just wish I could've done the same for him." Oz set the bowl on his lap to rest for a moment.

"I think…" Gil put a hand under his chin, "that Philip wouldn't have wanted to kill people like that. I think he was grieving, and didn't know what else to do. If he'd been thinking rationally I doubt he would've made the same decisions, and he was probably glad, in the end, that you stopped him from causing more harm."

Oz glanced to the side, his brows furrowing uncertainly. "But isn't that what you did?"

Wide-eyed, Gil glanced at the blond. Oz flinched, his fingers tightening around the rim of the bowl. "I didn't mean that, sorry."

"No, no...It's...it's okay." Gil looked down at his hands. "You're...You're right. I guess, yeah, that is what I did. I killed people selfishly, because the Nightrays told me I needed to, because if I could gain their favor I would be allowed to contract Raven and bring you home. But I think we all made reckless decisions like that at some point. Not always….of _that_ magnitude, but there are times in most people's lives when they put the good of one person over the good of others. Is that morally right? I don't know." He leaned over to take the pot off the stove, setting it on a towel on the counter and pouring the milk and eggs into Oz's bowl.

Oz handed him the mixed bowl, biting his lip. "I guess...killing Philip is something like that too." He ran a hand through his hair. "He was going to kill you, so I killed him. He might've killed other people that night if we hadn't stopped him. Those servants...they were threatening to kill us, so I…" His fingers clenched around the hem of his shirt.

Gil pulled him close, squeezing his shoulders gently. "Pandora has to make decisions like that all the time. Killing illegal contractors when their seal has already advanced too far for them to be saved...it's hard to judge. But don't blame yourself, alright? Philip seemed like a good kid, and I'm sure he understood that you cared."

Oz lunged to embrace him, pressing his face into Gil's chest. Startled, Gil slowly wrapped his arms around Oz and, feeling the faint wetness of tears beginning to soak through his shirt, he began to gently card his fingers through the tangled blond hair. _I missed you so much…_

"S-Sorry," Oz sniffed, starting to pull away. "I just…" Gil shook his head, rubbing Oz's back gently.

"Don't worry about it, alright? If you ever feel like you need to cry, please don't hesitate. I'm right here for you." _I'll_ always _be right here._

Oz smiled shakily up at him, brushing a sleeve over his eyes. "I know. Thanks Gil, really." There was a quiet click as the kitchen door swung open.

"Giiilllll, you promised you would help me look through Pandora Documents twenty minutes ago!" Vincent scowled at them from the doorway, his mismatched eyes stormy. Oz pulled away sharply, shrinking under Vincent's fierce gaze.

"O-Oh! Sorry Vince, I got a little distracted. I'll be right there, just let me finish lunch." He hurried to check the pot, dropping in a few carrots and setting it back on the stove. Oz placed some balls of batter on a tray and slid it into the oven.

Nodding, Vincent hopped up onto the counter, resting his chin in his hand and watching silently as Gil prepared the meal.

Struggling to ignore his brother's piercing gaze, Gil tried to focus his mind on the food. But now would be the perfect time to ask….He swallowed, handing Oz the spoon and instructing him to stir the mixture carefully.

"Ah...Hey Vince, how did you and Oz...meet? Just curious." Beside him, Oz went rigid. He nearly dropped the spoon into the boiling broth.

Vincent raised his eyebrows, amusement curling his lips. "Oh Gil….you're always meddling in things that don't concern you." He leaned back, gesturing absently with one hand and flicking his hair over his shoulder with the other. "I met B-Rabbit a _very_ long time ago."

Gil frowned, about to reproach his brother for addressing Oz like that, but he caught the boy shaking his head out of the corner of his eye and managed to hold his tongue.

"He never seemed too fond of my….hobbies...regarding stuffed animals. We never really got along." Vincent's smile was wicked. Oz looked like he was about to throw up into the soup.

Gil swallowed. _Maybe I shouldn't've asked…_ "But... _how?_ I just don't understand where the two of you would've met like that. And wouldn't I remember?"

"That was before you knew me," said Oz quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"We had a...mutual _friend,"_ Vincent said loftily, stroking a hand through his hair.

For some reason, a pair of violet eyes flickered in Gil's mind. He frowned, waiting, but Vincent obviously wasn't going to explain any further. Sighing, Gil pulled the biscuits from the oven, grabbed the soup pot, and slipped out into the main dining room. To his surprise, Oz had followed, a collection of plates and bowls in his arms. He smiled gratefully, and together they set the table for lunch.


	7. Chapter Six: Take the First Step

**A/N: I'm sorry for ending another chapter this way, I had good plans for the following chapter when I did it the first time, but I lost the inspiration to write them and it ruined a section, so hopefully I'll stick to my goal this time xD This is the second longest chapter I've written for this series, wow.**

 **I wish I could use the entire song of** _ **Sorrow**_ **for chapter titles (Idk I honestly might for real, it's just so perfect) especially this chapter, every line just fit well with what I wanted for it. If you haven't heard it (or Sleeping At Last) I really recommend.**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _Each brave step forward_

 _I take three steps behind_

 _Mind over matter_

 _Matter over mind_

— _Sorrow, Sleeping At Last—_

* * *

"A party?" Vincent's mismatched eyes glowed with curious energy.

"It's a tradition that my mother started," said Sharon quietly, taking a small sip of her tea. "Each year, my family throws two large parties: one to celebrate autumn, and one to celebrate winter. We've...continued it since her death to keep her in our memory…" She smiled sadly. Break glanced away, his crimson eye dull with regret.

Oz's face had gone pale at the mention of the party, his eyes wide as he lost himself to panicked thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Gil brushed his shoulder gently. Oz didn't answer, his breathing quicker than Gil would've liked.

Break smiled faintly, leaning against one of the plush armchairs and crossing his arms, his eye still dark. "Yes, the Vessalius family _will_ be in attendance." Gil froze, cold horror sinking into his stomach. It had barely been a week and a half since Oz's injury, and, although the boy's stomach appeared to have healed, Gil was still anxious about any pain or damage it might still cause. The stress of the party certainly wouldn't help either of them.

"Oz…"

Oz shook his head, wringing his hands. "M-Maybe it would be….good...to see them again…" But he looked like he was about to be sick.

Without thinking, Gil pulled him into a hug. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'll spend the evening with you if you want, we can hide out in the library or one of the sitting rooms."

"You just don't want to go to the party yourself," said Break wryly, tilting his head lazily in Gil's direction. Emily laughed, a hideous, distorted sound. Gil's cheeks reddened.

"That's not it at all!"

Sharon sighed. "But Raven, you can't deny that social gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea in the first place." Her eyes were soft and weary. Gil bristled. She was right.

Oz laughed shakily into Gil's stomach. Gil glanced down at the fluffy blond hair, biting his lip. _I don't know if Oz seeing Zai is a good idea..._

* * *

Oz took a shaky breath, adjusting his tie in the mirror. Gil bit his lip, squeezing the boy's shoulders gently from behind and trying to ignore how much taller his reflection was compared to Oz's.

"Are you scared?" the words were barely a breath, his mouth too dry to produce a louder sound.

Oz's expression was soft, his eyes dark and lost. "...I….don't think so, no." But his gaze drifted to the side. Gil sighed, his fingers tightening on his shoulders.

"You don't have to do this, alright? Just remember that." He straightened slowly, taking one last look at the reflection of the two of them. "If you want to leave, just tell me."

Oz nodded, but his eyes flickered with confliction.

* * *

The party was warm, golden light painting the room in a welcoming glow. Gil stayed beside Oz as they entered, keeping his hand firmly on the boy's shoulder. Sharon smiled from a nearby group of women, setting her drink on a table and hurrying to their side.

"Thank you both for coming. I know how difficult this has the potential to be, so please don't forget my appreciation." She dipped her head to them, her shiny caramel hair falling gracefully over her shoulders.

Oz nodded, gazing at something behind her. Gil followed his eyes, frowning at the sight of blond hair and a long black coat. Hatred washed through his veins like molten fire. His fingernails dug into the palm of his free hand.

Sharon sent them a sympathetic smile, giving a gentle wave and returning to the guests she'd been entertaining. Oz sent Gil a glance that was meant to be reassuring, but the sorrow in his eyes only made Gil's heart sink.

"Gil!" Vincent pranced to their side, smiling widely. Before Gil had time to understand what was happening, his brother had engulfed him in a hug. "Are you just gonna stand there all night?"

"Well, um..." Gil managed, his face burning as he tried to detangle himself from Vincent's arms. There were more than a few giggles from nearby nobility. He glanced down. "I was actually—" Gil broke off, sudden anxiety twisting down into his gut. Oz was gone.

Ignoring his brother's triumphant smirk, he scanned the crowd desperately for his master, but Oz had disappeared.

* * *

Oz leaned against the wine table, struggling to steady his shaking hands. He wished Gil were still with him, but he'd seen the look Vincent had sent him. As anxious as he was to see his family again, Vincent's bad side was just as terrifying.

Taking a few deep breaths in a futile effort to calm his racing heart, Oz poured himself a small glass of water, scared he would spill if he tried to pour any longer.

There was a tall man standing beside Zai, his golden hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. Oz took a quivering sip of his water, struggling to breathe normally. _Uncle Oscar?_ He wasn't sure he could face his uncle again, not after what had happened before his ten-year absence. Oscar shifted, and Oz caught sight of long shiny hair. The girl turned, meeting his gaze, her emerald eyes widening. Her slender fingers tugged at Oscar's suit, her cheeks flushing with an emotion Oz didn't have the clarity of mind to place.

He turned his back to the group, clutching the edge of the table.

"...'f course I wasn't planning on taking _wine,_ Leo! I'm not an idiot! Don't assume…."

Sweat had begun to creep across his forehead. The room was so hot...why was everything so hot? Didn't anyone else feel like they were being burned alive? Oz's ears were ringing, an odd buzz rising all around him and threatening to swallow him whole. The muffled voices of the room had become an all-consuming roar that he was certain would suffocate him—

"Are you okay?"

His head snapped up, eyes locking on the scrawny dark-haired boy on the other side of the table. Messy black hair fell low over large round glasses, almost completely obscuring the boy's eyes from view. A taller boy stood beside him, bright blue eyes narrowed. Pinned to his suit collar was the Nightray crest.

Oz stared at them, at a loss for words. The boy with glasses was looking at him quizzically. _Leo?_ _Hadn't the Nightray called him Leo?_ He wasn't sure. Everything was a blur.

"A-Ah…"

"Hey, you look like you might fall over—"

"I-I'm fine!" Oz managed, taking another small sip of his water in hopes it would stop the bile that had begun to creep up his throat. The dark-haired boy frowned, retracting the hand he'd reached toward the unsteady blond. His face reddening, Oz turned away sharply to avoid their confused stares. _Gil was right, I should never have come—_

He looked up, startled, into a pair of deep green eyes. "Oz?"

Oz couldn't breathe.

Oscar's beard was thick, a few stray silver hairs peeking out from beneath soft gold. Ada's gentle gaze peered out at Oz from behind her uncle. She was tall now, so much taller than he'd expected. Her figure had grown fuller, those familiar eyes shining from the face of a beautiful young woman.

Oz's throat closed, despair and regret climbing up his throat and choking the air from his lungs. _I'm sorry._

"Oz? H-Hey, is everything alright? You don't look so good…" Oscar reached out a hand, brushing Oz's arm gently. The world blurred before Oz's eyes.

 _I'm sorry._

"Oz!" This time it was Gil's voice, and momentary relief surged through his body as he felt the raven's reassuring hand on his back once more. He tilted his head back, meeting startled golden eyes. Gil's fingers locked around his shoulder, tensing as he took in Oz's expression.

"Lord Oscar...I-I'm sorry, but I think we might step out for a moment…" Gil said apologetically. Oz could hear the worry in his voice. It made his stomach churn.

 _I'm sorry._

"Don't waste your time with them, Oscar." The voice was hard, like cold steel.

Oz stiffened, hardly daring to lift his eyes. His blood thundered in his ears, drowning out Gil's quiet growl.

"Father!" Ada squeaked, staring at the scarred man incredulously. Her hands were clenched anxiously.

"Zai," said Oscar quietly, his voice tight, like a coiled spring. "I think you should leave. You don't have any business here."

Zai ignored him, reaching out to brush his gloved hand along the side of Oz's face. "An existence that was only created to destroy...why are you still here?"

Ada and Oscar gasped. Oz's heart crawled into his throat. _I'm sorry._

"Don't touch him," Gil snarled, grabbing Zai's arm and forcing it to the side. Oz turned, taking advantage of Gil's distraction to jerk his arm free and disappear into the crowd. The world was spinning, suffocating heat and noise pressing in on him from every side. He pushed past a startled man, stumbling out into the fresh air of the hall.

 _Escape...an escape..._ All he needed was somewhere to be alone…

An odd memory swirled into his jumbled mind, Break's crimson eye glinting as he slipped out from a hidden passage in the wall.

* * *

Oz dug his fingers into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut despite the darkness around him. His heart was pounding so frantically inside his chest that he wondered vaguely if he was dying. The buzzing in his head had swirled and merged with the familiar whispering, and the two sounds had become a thunderous roar that blocked out all other noises.

Jack's voice weaved through the clamor, whispering venomous discouragements into Oz's mind. Oz grit his teeth, choking back a sob. The rough stone wall behind him clawed at the fabric of his suit as he shifted, curling furthur in on himself. Nausea sloshed through his stomach, threatening to climb up his throat.

Oz whimpered, gasping for breath, sweat crawling down the bridge of his nose and making his skin itch.

 _Oscar….Ada...Gilbert...you've ruined their lives. If they had never known you, they would never have felt the sorrow you caused them..._ Jack's voice was like fine silk, smooth and gentle. Oz shook his head, struggling to focus his turbulent mind on the smiling faces of his family. They knew what he was, yet they had chosen to stand beside him...surely that must mean something?

 _They pity you. They fell in love with the Oz that they thought was real….That person never existed...you were never meant to be part of their lives. You were created to destroy everything, Oz. You'll only hurt them._ Green eyes enveloped his mind.

Oz pressed his fingers to his mouth, sobbing into his hands to quiet the sound. _I don't want to hurt anyone._

 _I don't want to destroy anything._

 _I don't….I don't want—_

The door cracked open, a cloud of dust floating into the air as it scraped along the stone floor. Oz froze, holding his breath, trying desperately to stop his shoulders from shaking in case his suit made a sound.

"Come on Elliot, you can rest in here for a moment."

Oz looked up from beneath his bangs, just barely able to make out two vaguely familiar figures in the darkness.

The Nightray boy from the drinks table staggered into the room, his palm pressed to his forehead. The dark-haired boy—Leo? If he remembered correctly—closed the door quietly. He turned, stopping abruptly at the sight of Oz.

Oz curled furthur in on himself, his breathing quickening.

The Nightray boy stumbled into the wall, capturing Leo's attention once more. "Just take deep breaths," he said quietly, moving to the boy's side and reaching out a tentative hand to squeeze his shoulder. The boy slumped down, panting quietly. Leo glanced at Oz, sending him a sympathetic smile. "Elliot doesn't sleep well, so he gets bad headaches sometimes."

Oz didn't say anything. He couldn't; his mind could hardly string together long enough to produce a coherent thought. Jack's voice ripped through his head once more, and he stifled a cry of despair.

Leo raised his head, frowning slightly. "Hey...you didn't look so good at the party either, is everything alright?"

Oz nodded, but he could hardly feel his head anymore, it hurt so much, and he just bobbed it absently. Leo looked as if he wanted to say more, but was unsure of the words, and the three of them fell into an awkward silence.

At last, when Elliot began to stir, Leo stood, rubbing a weary hand over his eyes. He reached for the door, pulling at the handle, but the room remained dark. "Um…"

Elliot glanced up, scowling. "What's wrong?"

Leo shrugged. "We're locked in."

Oz's heart sank. He'd worried about locking himself in by accident and had left the door open just a crack. Leo must've been too focused on Elliot to notice how hard he'd closed the door behind them. Oz buried his face in his arms. Maybe it was better this way...the choice had been made for him, his family wouldn't be burdened by him anymore, and he wasn't breaking his promise to Gil.

"I'm sure there's another way out somewhere," said Leo calmly, adjusting his glasses.

"There's not." Oz's voice was hoarse.

Both boys' attention turned to him. Oz shrank beneath the weight of their gazes.

"How the hell would you know?" Elliot snapped, getting to his feet unsteadily. He leaned over to the door, jerking the handle toward him, but it didn't budge. "Damn thing must be stuck!"

Leo put a thoughtful hand beneath his chin. "I've read a few things regarding hidden passages and rooms in these old mansions…" He looked around curiously. "It's possible this room could be over one-hundred years old. In that case, keeping in mind the even more prominent hostilities between nobles, it's very possible that this room was meant simply to be a shelter in case the mansion fell under attack. We _are_ on the second floor, it's not like they could have a secret exit leading outside."

Elliot crossed his arms. "So? They could've just made a passage to another part of the house. Equally as safe." He absently brushed some of the dust from his suit.

Shaking his head, Leo said, "Possible, but not as likely. This room's pretty square, it seems like it'd take up a lot more space than just making it into a hall, doesn't it? If they'd wanted a passage, it would've been easier and conserved more time and space to build this room as a passage. Therefore, I do believe it's safe to assume this was meant to be a hiding place, and only has one way in and out." He smirked, pleased with his own reasoning. Oz clenched his fingers around the sleeves of his shirt, trying to keep his thoughts from swirling away in the current of Jack's whispers.

Scowling, Elliot inspected the walls and floor. Finding nothing, he grit his teeth, sending Leo a glare. "Alright then, tell me how we're supposed to get out of here."

Leo leaned back against the wall, the fabric of his suit making a quiet sound against the rough stone. "We don't."

"What the hell?" Elliot growled, slamming one fist against the wall. Oz flinched. "Are you telling me we're supposed to just sit here and _wait_ for some idiot to think 'hmm, that wall looks interesting, why don't I pull on it?'"

"Isn't that what _we_ did?"

"Shut up! It was open a little, this time it's not!" With an indignant huff, Elliot turned back to Oz. "How did _you_ get in here?"

Oz lowered his head, allowing his hair to cover his expression. "I...watched someone come out of here once…" He swallowed. Had Break been lurking in this dark room, just waiting for the time when Oz and Gil would pass by? _Creepy._

Elliot groaned, running a hand through his hair. "If no one finds before the party's over, Vanessa's going to be furious!"

Leo shrugged, accepting their fate with acquiescence. "That's a little selfish, you know. I'm sure our companion has people who're looking for him, too."

"It's probably better if they don't find me," Oz mumbled without thinking. Anything was better than silence, where Jack's whispers were overwhelming. "I'm nothing but a burden to them."

Elliot scowled, leaning back against the wall with folded arms. His eyes glittered in the faint light from beneath the door. Leo's expression tightened.

Oz sighed. "I should've left a long time ago…"

"What right do you have to say something like that?" said Elliot after a moment, his eyes narrowed to thin blue slits. "They've stayed around this long, haven't they?"

"They probably just pitied me, feeling like they had to." Oz bit his lip. _He'd taken up so much of their time…_

 _...You destroy everything…._

"You can't act like you know how they really feel! You're not the one who would be hurt by your absence!" Elliot straightened, his hands balled into fists. "You only hurt everyone _more_ by assuming you understand what's best for them!" He stomped his foot down furiously, the sound loud in the emptiness of the little room.

Oz squeaked, flinching back. Elliot stilled, his hands trembling with fury, a strange expression coming over his features. Oz buried his face in his hands, a shaky sob slipping from his throat. Leo stood slowly, making his way to the boy's side and touching his arm gently. He glanced at Elliot.

"I think you may have been a little harsh."

Elliot took a half step back, his confident posture flickering uncertainly. At last, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before crouching in front of Oz.

"Look…" His gaze drifted to the side. "My older brother Gilbert...he taught me something really valuable."

Oz stiffened, sucking in a startled breath. _Gil…? Nightray….Nightray, that's right. The Nightray crest..._ His eyes watered. _I'm sorry, Gil._

"He spent...his _whole life_ working and working to bring back someone he really cared about. Even when other people criticized him for cutting himself off the way he did, Gil continued on, and he even managed to make time for Vincent and myself…" Elliot smiled wistfully. "I haven't seen him in a while, so I don't know whether or not he ever managed to bring that person back, but I know that it changed my view of the way people can love just to look at him." He chuckled. "Yeah, he's a little extreme; in fact, I've never known him to do anything half-heartedly. But I _never_ believed anyone could love anyone else as much as Gil loves the people around him. He would do _anything_ to protect them, to make sure they're happy, and know how much he cares, and...I really….admire that, you know?" His cheeks colored softly.

Oz stared down at his knees, wide-eyed. His heart was pounding, but not in an unpleasant way. It was like all the warmth in his body had moved to his chest, and it was slowly washing out to the rest of him, filling him with an emotion he couldn't place. His vision blurred.

"Gil doesn't always take the best care of himself, but….I really think...he's shown me more than anything else what it truly means to love someone." Elliot's fists clenched around his knees. "Even though he was scared, and alone, Gil never gave up. Even if he felt useless and despaired without his precious person, he never stopped fighting to get that person back. _Never._ And staying here, staying _alive,_ even when it was hard...that's the most love he could ever give someone. Just being there...that's enough. That's love."

Oz pressed his fingers to his mouth, cool tears dripping down onto his dress pants. His shoulders quivered. _Gil...all this time….I...noticed, but I never_ noticed. _He's right, just being there, that's all I need. You fought so hard...all this_ time… _._ He took a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut, wet lashes sticking to his cheeks. A warm glow engulfed his chest. _I'm sorry it's taken me so long. I'll protect you from now on, I'll be here, because that's the master's duty. And...because you're…my precious best friend._

"Elliot," said Leo quietly, his brows furrowed in concern. As Oz's stifled sniffles reached his ears, Elliot's eyes widened. Leo placed a tentative hand on Oz's shoulder. The blond shook his head, laughing wetly. He raised his head, his cheeks flushed and dripping with tears.

"I...needed that." He laughed again, quiet, breathy. "I really...needed that…"

Elliot blushed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall beside Oz. "Yeah, well….just don't tell Gil I said all that, alright? I don't want that idiot to get a bigger head than he already has."

Oz rested his head against the cool stone, a soft giggle shaking his frame. "Thanks, Elliot." He closed his eyes.

Leo smiled, adjusting his glasses and sending Elliot a proud glance. The Nightray looked away, smiling faintly back.

* * *

Gil slumped back into a plush armchair, pressing his face into his hands. Oz had completely vanished, and it was all his fault. Maybe if he hadn't gotten sidetracked by Vincent he would've been more capable of getting Oz somewhere else before the situation had escalated as it had.

The party had ended nearly an hour ago, and almost all the guests had cleared out, but Gil hadn't seen a single sign of his distraught master since the beginning. Oscar had stayed behind to help Gil search, while Ada had left with Zai, albeit against her own wishes. Gil could hardly breathe through the haze of terror that filled his gut.

 _I know he promised, but…._ Gil swallowed hard, forcing himself to take deep breaths. _But what if he left? What if he's gone, out there in the world all on his own...I'm sure seeing Zai like that wasn't good for his self confidence…._ What if he was injured? Gil's fingernails dug into his scalp in frustrated worry.

"Hey," Oscar's voice was as gentle as the hand he brushed along Gil's back. "I'm sure he's fine. You know how Oz is, he doesn't really like to face things head on. He's just gotta think it out to himself for awhile and then he'll turn up again."

There was a quiet chuckle as Vincent strode into the room. "It's a habit of rabbits to flee rather than staying to face a situation."

Gil grit his teeth, pulling at his hair. "Shut up."

His heartbeat rushed in his ears, nausea crawling down from his fluttering heart. _I should've_ done _something…_

Oscar squeezed Gil's shoulder. "It's alright, come on, don't beat yourself up."

Gil took a deep breath, taking the duke's hand and squeezing it gratefully. He moved to push himself to his feet, ready to continue the search, when Sharon hurried into the room, pulling Break by the sleeve.

"Tell him," she said sharply, jerking the hatter to a stop before Gil.

Gil straightened immediately, a stab of worry clawing at his stomach. "Tell me what?"

Break shrugged, his crimson eye glittering languidly in the flickering candlelight. "There's somewhere you haven't looked yet," He said the words casually, glancing to the side with a wry smile.

"Show me." Gil stood sharply, his fingers tightening around Oscar's hand. The duke smiled softly, his eyes glowing with gentle affection.

"I'll come too." He squeezed back reassuringly, pleased to feel some of the tension fade from the raven's grasp.

Vincent and Sharon tagged along, Sharon's arms crossed and an odd grin on Vincent's face as Break lead the small group through the halls. At last, he stopped before a smooth wall near the ballroom.

Before Gil could ask, the hatter reached forward, tugging at a wall sconce. The wall panel slid back, light streaming into a dark stone room. A wave of relief washed through Gil's chest. Oz was curled against the back wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. At his sides, their faces the picture of contentment, were Elliot and Leo.

Gil, who had been about to rush forward and envelope his master in his arms, paused. "What—"

Elliot glanced up sharply, his cerulean eyes glinting. "Shh."

"He wore himself out," said Leo, adjusting his glasses with a lopsided smirk.

Gil stared. From behind him, Vincent said, "I assumed you were off with him somewhere. Vanessa was worried, but I told her you'd planned on staying the night here with me and were probably off exploring." Gil could hear the triumph in his brother's voice.

It was as though a cloud had passed from Elliot's face. He leaned his head back against the wall with a relieved sigh. "Good. Although," his eyes narrowed, "to owe _you_ something...I hope it was worth it." He kept his voice soft.

"What...happened…?" Gil murmured, his brows furrowed perplexedly.

Elliot blushed. Leo sent him a glance, his crooked smile growing. "Elliot had a bit of a headache, and the door was ajar, so we thought we'd rest in here for a bit." He brushed a hand through his hair. "But the door got stuck."

Oscar chuckled softly.

Gil sighed gently, slipping forward and crouching to pull Oz into his arms. Elliot's eyes narrowed. "Wait, do you know him?"

Leo's glasses flashed as he pushed them up. "Well, you never did ask him his name,"

Smiling softly, Gil brushed a strand of hair from Oz's face. "This is Oz, my master."

Elliot's face paled, horror surging through his expression, before he flushed brightly. Leo giggled. Elliot groaned, burying his face in his hands. Gil raised an eyebrow, pulling Oz forward into his arms gently. The blond murmured something unintelligible, curling into Gil's chest. He ran a tender hand through the sweaty blond hair. Elliot looked like he wanted the floor to rise up and swallow him.

Oz shifted, his fingers clenching around the lapels of Gil's suit. "Gil…" he mumbled faintly, the word tipped with a slight slur. "M'sorry….'ll be there...promise...promise I'll…."

Gil's eyes watered. "Oz…" he smiled tearfully, pulling the thin boy close. "Thank you." Elliot watched them silently, but he was unable to disguise the softness in his eyes.

With a quiet breath of exhaustion, Gil lifted Oz and pushed himself to his feet. For a brief moment, his head throbbed, but the sensation was gone as almost quickly as it had appeared.

* * *

Gil rubbed a weary hand at his eyes, sipping his coffee quietly. Soft sunlight streamed in through the curtains, faint dust particles hanging in the air like faux stars. Breathing in through his nose, Gil smiled to himself. Oz shifted in his sleep, golden hair glowing in the warm light.

Leaning forward, Gil tucked the blankets more securely around his master's shoulders. As he began to pull back, a pair of bleary green eyes fluttered open, blinking up at him curiously. Gil exhaled quietly though a tender smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from Oz's forehead.

"How're you feeling?"

Oz stretched, curling into the blankets contentedly. "Actually...I slept well." His eyes sparkled as he peered out at Gil, and for a moment, the raven was struck with the image of a playful young kitten swaddled in lavish quilts. To his surprise, the thought didn't repulse him. _Even if Oz was a_ cat _I'd never be able to stop caring about him._

"Are you hungry? The others ate without us. In fact," he craned his neck, glancing back at the large grandfather clock that kept watch at the edge of the room. "Yeah, Elliot and Leo should be heading home soon."

The relaxed glow melted from Oz's eyes instantly. With a gasp, he threw the blankets off and flung himself from the bed, scrambling toward the window. His second gasp was all the confirmation Gil needed. Chuckling to himself, he moved to stand beside Oz, watching with affectionate amusement as the small blond forced the window open.

"Elliot!"

They were on the second floor, and Elliot and Leo were like little bushes on the path. The beige-haired speck squinted up at them. Gil could almost feel Leo's giggle.

"Thank you! And Leo, you too! I'm so grateful!" Oz waved frantically.

Elliot dipped his head, his hand flashing out in a casual wave. Even from such distance, Gil could see the smile that curved his lips. As Elliot turned, beginning to walk away, Leo appeared to adjust his glasses, sending them a bit more of an enthusiastic wave.

Oz breathed out softly, resting his arms on the windowsill and leaning forward to watch the two boys climb into their carriage and vanish between the trees. A faint breeze stirred his hair, warm for autumn, and he closed his eyes, leaning his face into the gentle wind.

Gil smiled, warmth filling his chest.

* * *

Yawning slightly, Gil poured Oz a glass of orange juice. The blond smiled gratefully, sliding his chair closer to the table and taking a careful sip. Oscar sat at Oz's other side, conversing cheerfully with Sharon as Vincent and Break took seats across from each other, the tension between them buzzing in the morning air. Gil wasn't sure why Vincent had decided to stay at the manor, but he decided he didn't mind as long as his brother didn't harass Oz.

"Do you still get those headaches?" Oscar leaned toward Oz, his eyes like soft pools of light, but still there was something wistful and melancholy about his expression. The servants flittered around, bringing plates and bowls of food to set before each of them.

Oz glanced away. "Mmm-hm." He took a shaky breath. "Last night was….Last night was...bad." Gil's heart clenched.

Oscar's gaze darkened sorrowfully. "I'm sorry." He squeezed Oz's tenderly. A soft smile lifted Oz's lips. Gil took a bite of his egg, soft warmth swirling through him. As difficult as it might be for Oz for face his family, he was certain Oscar's encouragement would help him.

Smiling to himself, Gil took a piece of bread and spread some butter over it. The polished knife glinted slightly in the creamy light, and for a moment, Gil was certain he saw the image of a young girl flash through it. He blinked, rubbing at his eyes. _I should've gotten more sleep last night._ He set the knife down carefully, glancing to the side as Echo slipped into the room, an envelope for Vincent in her hands.

Gil didn't miss Oz's quiet inhale, looking up just in time to see the cup slide from his hands. Echo was at his side in an instant, snatching the cup out of the air and holding it out to the startled blond.

"This is Echo, she works for Vincent," said Gil quickly, catching the panic that had begun to rise behind his master's eyes.

Oz blinked, glancing at Gil, before carefully taking the cup from her hands. "T-Thank you,"

Echo nodded, her deadpan gaze still close to Oz's face. "Be more careful next time."

"I-I will." Oz stared at her. Seemingly satisfied with his answer, the girl nodded once more to herself and vanished from the room.

Oz took a shaky sip of his juice, glancing at Gil as the raven had another bite of his egg. Oz paused, his brows furrowing slightly. He breathed in softly.

Gil swallowed his mouthful. "Oz?"

The blond stared at him, opening his mouth slightly. Nothing came out.

A stab of worry shot through Gil's stomach. "Is something—"

Still frowning, Oz shook his head, looking away. "It's nothing, I'm sorry." But his expression remained tense, and Gil could almost see him thinking.

* * *

Gil stood, stretching languidly. Oz glanced up from their chess game, something odd flashing briefly through his expression.

"Why don't I get us some tea?" said Gil, scratching his shoulder absently. His throat had begun to feel a bit dry. Oz nodded, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands.

"That sounds nice, thank you."

Gil nodded. "I'll be right back," He slipped out into the hall, smiling softly to himself. Oscar had said he'd come spend the afternoon with them when he was finished with his paperwork, and the excitement had built into a buzzing in Gil's stomach. It'd been _so long_ since the three of them had been able to spend quality time together just doing fun and relaxing things.

Gentle sunlight streamed in through the large hall windows, casting soft paned shadows along the walls. The light brought with it a faint warmth, and Gil blinked, stopping for a moment to glance outside. It was much too warm for late autumn, the afternoon heat making his head feel thick, as if someone had stuffed it with cotton. He turned away, shaking the feeling away as he passed the windows. Maybe it would be warm enough for the three of them to spend some time relaxing in the gardens. _We might even be able to have a picnic!_ His heart soared at the thought.

Gil picked up his pace, hurrying to the stairs, his stomach churning with excitement. He reached for the railing, frowning to himself when his fingers missed it the first time.

The Rainsworth staircases were grand, and he'd just reached the center of the long flight when the world around him tilted, his vision blurring. Fierce, hot pain shot through his head, and his eyes widened. He gasped softly, panic beginning to crawl up his throat. As the world around him lost all definition, Gil tried to ground himself, but his foot caught the edge of the stair and slid off it, sending the raven tipping forward into oblivion as darkness rushed up to meet him.


	8. Chapter Seven: Pears

**A/N: I'll probably come back and add to this chapter a bit later, I'm not completely satisfied with it yet. Camp NaNo's starting soon, so it'll (probably) be awhile before the next time I post.**

 **I'm sorry Vincent's so OOC, I tried to keep him consistent ugh.**

 _Era,_ **Thanks so much for reviewing, I appreciate it so much! :) Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _Just close your eyes, the sun is going down_

 _You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now_

 _Come morning light, you and I'll be_

 _Safe and sound_

— _Safe and Sound, Taylor Swift feat. The Civil Wars—_

* * *

Oz's hands moved before he'd really even registered what was happening, a chain shooting toward Gil and snaking around him, the links pulling taught and jerking his airborne body to a stop. For fear of the metal cutting into the raven, Oz had wrapped his fingers around the chain, pulling it still himself. The weight of Gil's momentum nearly pulled Oz over the top of the stairs. He grunted, pulling back as hard as he could, but his quivering arms couldn't support the weight and Gil's body smacked the ground limply.

Letting the chain slip from his hands and disappear, Oz sat back, panting, his eyes wide. Taking a deep breath to calm his frantic heart, he forced his trembling legs down the stairs, crouching beside Gil's still body and brushing his fingers across the raven's forehead. Gil's face was chalky, his cheeks flushed and sticky with sweat. His forehead burned against Oz's fingertips. The blond swallowed, gently pulling Gil's head into his lap and running his hands through the tangled black hair.

He couldn't carry Gil on his own anymore, but he was afraid to leave him.

Gil's breath was ragged, cutting from his throat and as he struggled to take in air. His brows were pulled low, his eyes squeezed shut with pain. Oz bit his lip as Gil shifted, a soft cry sliding from his parted lips.

"I'm sorry," Oz mumbled to himself, touching the raven's cheek gently.

Syrupy golden eyes fluttered open, blinking up at him in delirious confusion. "O-Oz…?" He tried to sit up, but his trembling arms couldn't support his weight and he collapsed back against Oz's knees.

"Shh...Just take it easy, alright?" Oz rested his palm against Gil's forehead. The raven leaned into the touch, inhaling softly.

Firm footsteps echoed through the serenity of the hall. Oz glanced up just as Oscar turned the corner, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him.

"H-Hey! What happened?" he gasped, racing to Oz's side and dropping to his knees.

Oz shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "I...I don't…" He felt dizzy, horror seeping through his body and consuming all his senses. Oscar's hand suddenly felt heavy against his shoulder.

"Whoa, careful. Are you sure _you're_ alright?" His uncle's voice was thick with worry. Oz turned to look at him, a strange feeling twisting his gut at Oscar's expression. At the aged lines of his face.

 _All of this...is my fault._

 _Chilled hands wove their way through his hair, stirring it like a faint breeze._ Oscar was still staring at him, his anxiety growing with every moment his nephew was silent. Taking a shuddering breath, Oz nodded. He clenched his fingers around the thick fabric of Gil's coat, pushing away the feeling of Jack's hands crawling down to grasp his shoulders.

"I'm fine."

Gil looked up as Oz spoke, his head rolling back against Oz's lap as he blinked up at the blond, sweat beading over his flushed cheeks. "No...'re n't….'Always say th't…" He shook his head feebly, like toy whose throat had nearly been severed and was only holding on by one thread. "...Don't…"

Smiling softly, Oz took Gil's hand in his. "Don't worry about me, alright? I'm fine, I promise." _Jack's chin thumped down into Oz's hair._ He could feel the smile on the dead man's lips.

Gil frowned, trying to push himself up once more, but he let out a sudden gasp as he tried to move. Oz's fingers tightened around his. "Gil?" He leaned down, terror striking through his chest as the raven gazed up at him hollowly, a soft cry of pain slipping past his lips.

Oz stared down at him helplessly. _I'm sorry._

"Here, let me take him." Oscar's voice was hard and tight. Involuntarily, Oz flinched away from his uncle's outstretched hands, watching anxiously as the man lifted Gil's limp frame into his arms.

 _I can't carry you anymore._

"O-Oz…" Gil whimpered, craning his neck to catch sight of the shaken blond. Oz smiled, closing his eyes to hide the tears that burned behind them.

"I'm right here."

 _But...do you really need me?_

Oz's fingers clenched around the edges of his sleeves. He bit his lip, trailing silently behind Oscar's brisk pace. Gil kept his eyes on Oz, his brows furrowed. His gaze was glazed with pain and confusion.

 _I promised to protect you but...what can I do? I'm not of any use to you._

He watched dimly as Oscar tucked Gil into bed, calling for a few of the servants and directing them to get a bucket of water and some rags.

* * *

Oz sighed quietly, taking a faint sip of the tea his uncle had brought for him. It made his stomach churn to think about the tea Gil had wanted to make. The raven was curled beneath the blankets, his expression drawn with pain.

There was a flurry of sudden sound, and then Vincent was beside him, gripping his brother's hand with quivering fingers. He sent a dark glance in Oz's direction. "Get out, before you do even _more_ harm."

Oz stood, stumbling back, his eyes wide. "I-I didn't—"

"Get _out!"_

Swallowing thickly, Oz turned on his heel, struggling to block his ears to Gil's quiet whimper of his name. Closing the door behind him, he sank to the floor beside it, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes.

 _I'm sorry Gil. I know I always say it, but...I really am sorry for everything that's happened to you because of me. I'm so sorry._

His eyes watered, his expression twisting as he tried to make the feeling go away, and he buried his face in his arms.

Oz wasn't sure how long he stayed that way, but the next thing he was aware of was the quiet sound of gentle footsteps coming to a stop before him. He raised his head, squinting slightly to clear his vision. His hair clung to his cheeks, damp with tears.

Sharon smiled down at him sadly, her soft pink eyes shimmering with sympathy. With a quiet sigh, she sat down beside him, curling her arms around her knees and leaning her head back against the wall. "Shouldn't you be in there with him?"

Oz looked away, biting his lip. "Vincent doesn't want me anywhere near Gil." He took a shaky breath. "And he's right, it's probably better if I don't—"

"Stop." Sharon's soft face twisted into a disapproving frown.

Oz blinked at her in surprise.

"You always say the same things, Lord Oz. Listen to the people around you for once." She folded her arms. "What does _Gil_ want? Have you ever stopped to think about that?"

"O-Of course I—"

"Well you haven't thought hard enough!" Sharon's cheeks were tinged pink, her lips pulled into a soft pout. "Raven has done _so_ much just so he could be with you again, Lord Oz. I understand that you're only trying to do what's best for him, but...I think you should try to find a way to protect him from nearby, rather than distancing yourself. You obviously care about him as much as he cares about you, and I think this dance you've caught yourself up in is absolutely ridiculous. Just do your best, that's all he needs. Besides," she sent him a sideways glance. "Gilbert is a capable young man, he can take care of himself. Have a little faith in him."

Oz's fingers clenched around his knees. She was right, Gil was an adult now. He took a deep breath. "I...I know...I'm just….scared."

She tilted her head, soft caramel hair falling over her cheeks. "You don't think he's scared for you? Raven could shoot you by accident if he wasn't careful, you know."

Oz's eyes widened. "Gil would _never_ allow that to—"

"And neither would you." Sharon's smile was smug. Oz gaped at her. For a moment, His head was clear, peace and understanding flooding his senses. His expression fell.

"You don't know that." He hugged his knees to his chest. "Gil's _Gil._ He's not like me."

"You won't know until you try. Better to do it while we're all here as well than when he's chased you out into the forest because you insist on trying to bear everything by yourself." She raised an eyebrow at him. Oz bit his lip. He could hear Vincent's muffled voice from within Gil's room, and he wished he could make out what the man was saying.

Leaning back, Oz took a deep breath. "Thanks, Lady Sharon." He sent her a faint smile, and she smiled back, her serenity creeping down into his chest and relieving some of his worry.

* * *

Oz glanced up as the door clicked open, a scowling Vincent poking his head out.

"Good, you're right where I thought you'd be."

Straightening, Oz rubbed his eyes wearily. Sharon had left some time ago, and he'd been half-dozing ever since. "Did you need something?"

Vincent's eyes narrowed to slits. " _I_ don't need anything from _you."_ His fingers curled around the long sleeves of his robe. "But, Gil's been asking for you for hours now." He looked away. "And I'll do anything for Gil."

Twin sparks of hope and relief swirled through Oz's chest. "How is he? Has he eaten anything?" He bit his lip.

"He's fine," Vince sniffed. "I'm taking _excellent_ care of my brother." He folded his arms. "Though, he refuses to eat."

Oz nodded, taking in a slow breath. "Thank you."

Vincent raised his head, his lips curved downward in a grimace, but there was something old and melancholy in his eyes that Oz couldn't quite place. Taking the motion as a nod, Oz pushed himself to his feet.

"I'll go get something small to see if he's feeling any hungrier. If he's not, it's no harm done."

Sweeping from the doorway, Vincent turned to send him a skeptical glance. "I'm not sure why you're telling me this." He shrugged, smiling loftily. "I don't care what you do, as long as you don't bring any harm to my brother." A shadow fell over his expression, and Oz nodded quickly.

As soon as the blond was out of sight, Oz hurried toward the kitchen, snagging a cookbook from the library on his way. The kitchen was empty, to his immense relief, and Oz set about making Gil a bowl of vegetable soup. He'd never been very good at cooking, but this time….Oz swallowed.

 _I just have to know…_

* * *

Setting the bowl of hot soup on the bedside table, Oz sank down into a chair beside the bed. At first glance, it appeared as though Gil was sleeping, but as Oz sat down, the raven's eyes opened a crack.

"O-Oz…?"

Oz smiled gently, running a tender hand through the tangled black hair. "How're you feeling?" he murmured, pressing one palm to Gil's forehead and pursing his lips at the warmth he found there.

Gil stared up at him through half-lidded eyes. "...Tired…"

"I bet." Oz sighed softly, brushing back a few inky strands of hair that stuck to Gil's forehead and cheeks. He took the bowl of soup, shifting forward to touch Gil's hand gently. "I have some soup for you. I know you're probably not very hungry, but you need to eat _something."_

"'Makes me feel sick," Gil mumbled, his gaze drifting.

Oz bit his lip.

"Just a little, alright? It'll help keep your strength up." His fingers tightened around the bowl. Gil stared up at him, his expression falling slightly as he understood. Confliction crossed his face for a moment, but at last he gave a faint nod.

"If...you say so…"

Oz swallowed hard, dipping the spoon into the broth and holding it out with as steady a hand as he could manage. Gil opened his mouth obediently, taking longer than Oz would've liked to swallow the mouthful. The raven took a shuddering breath.

"Just a few more," Oz murmured, his heart clenching. Once he was certain Gil had eaten all he could manage, Oz set the bowl back onto the table with a quiet sigh.

Gil rolled onto his side, staring at Oz tiredly. He was panting softly, his hair falling over his face and sticking to the sweat on his forehead. Smiling tenderly, Oz took the raven's hand, squeezing his fingers gently.

"I'm right here, alright? I won't leave you. I promise."

Gil was silent, and a flash of self-consciousness sank into Oz's chest. He glanced away, biting his lip, but then Gil's slender fingers wound around his, golden eyes glowing with soft joy. His eyes watering, Oz laughed wetly, wrapping his other hand around their joined hands. Gil's cheeks were flushed with fever, but his face was serene. Oz breathed in softly, resting his head on the bed beside their hands.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, content to relax in each other's presence, but when he looked up, he was surprised to find Gil still watching him. The raven was smiling faintly, but his eyes were unfocused, dull with exhaustion. Oz straightened, running a hand through his hair.

"You should get some sleep," he murmured, tucking the blankets tighter around Gil's shoulders. Gil's lips pulled down into a faint frown.

"...I'm fine…."

Oz shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "I'll be right here, don't worry."

* * *

" _Gilbert?"_

Gil opened his eyes with a quiet gasp, startled to find himself surrounded by a vast darkness. He sat up slowly, an odd stuffiness clouding his mind and stealing his thoughts, like thin tendrils of cotton that had decided they wanted to become fog. _Where...am I?_

Glancing around, Gil got to his feet, reaching for his gun in case it was needed. His fingers grasped at nothing, a stab of worry piercing his chest as he realized it wasn't there. He grit his teeth.

 _Oz. Where's Oz? Is he safe?_ He could vaguely remember seeing him nearby what seemed like only a moment ago. His brows furrowed perplexedly. _And I could've sworn...Did someone call my name?_

There was a strange sense of fear lingering in the back of his jumbled mind, though he couldn't quite place it's cause. Something deep inside him yearned for something that he _knew_ was just on the other side of the darkness, if only he could _see_ it. But there was also a sense of foreboding, and he decided the fear was wiser than the curiosity.

But he still didn't know where he was, or how to get out. Sighing quietly, Gil stepped forward blindly. The moment his foot touched the emptiness that was "ground," colors erupted all around him, swirling to complete the image of a little boy amidst a groomed patch of flowers.

" _Big brother!"_

Gil's took a startled step back, his eyes widening. Vincent smiled up at him, his mismatched eyes shining in the morning sunlight. He held out a bouquet of white roses, their petals still glittering with dewdrops. Blinking uncertainly, Gil reached out to take the flowers, but his fingers passed through them.

His vision blurred, and Gil gasped, pressing a hand to his head. When he could see clearly again, red had begun to seep out from the center of the roses.

Vincent's smile didn't falter, even when the color oozed down over his fingers, dripping into the grass below.

" _You don't—"_

Vincent's image flickered.

"— _remember?"_

A drop of red welled up at the edge of a petal, and for a moment Gil lost himself in its fall. The ground it splattered onto was not ground but emptiness. Vincent was gone. Blood dribbled down the blade of a silver sword, collecting at the tip and dripping into the darkness with a quiet sound. Gasping, Gil backed away.

Vincent's quiet giggle echoed all around him, everywhere at once.

" _That's good."_

Fierce, hot pain blazed through his skull. Crying out, Gil sank to his knees, digging his fingers into his hair. The agony rippled down along his spine, fire that licked at his bones and tore through his chest. He gasped, clawing at his shirt, barely able to breathe through the pain.

" _What's the matter? Were you unable to fall asleep again?"_

* * *

Gil's eyes shot open.

"— _Oz!"_

His body went rigid, anticipating another stab of pain. Instead, he was met with a blurry Oz, turning to look at him anxiously from the conversation he appeared to be having with Oscar. The duke adjusted his glasses, peering around Oz's head to send Gil a gentle smile.

"Are you alright?" Oz murmured, crouching beside the bed, his eyes shining with worry. Gil nodded faintly, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"J-Just a dream."

Oz's brows pulled together slightly, his gaze darkening. "Okay."

But he didn't sound convinced.

Gil shifted, sticking one arm beneath the pillow and pulling the blankets higher on his shoulders. He breathed out slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. _A dream. Just a dream._

Oz's hair glowed in the flickering candlelight, and Gil lost himself in the mess of fluffy strands as the blond turned back to his uncle. _If anyone would understand that dreams aren't always 'just' dreams, it's Oz._ He sighed quietly.

"You still don't have any ideas as to what caused it?" Oz asked Oscar softly. Gil couldn't see the duke's face, but he saw his hair sway as he shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. It was just so sudden..."

Oz nodded, his fists clenching around his sleeves. There was something in the air about him that sent a spark of unease curling down into Gil's chest.

"Uncle...I…." He swallowed.

Oscar tilted his head curiously. "Hm?" Gil wished he could see his expression. Oz's fists were trembling. He breathed in slowly.

"...It's nothing."

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be in my office, alright?" Oscar ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright."

* * *

Soft sunshine shone in through the wide dining room windows, casting the smooth wood of the tables in a warm glow. Break took his seat beside Sharon, frowning faintly at Vincent as he and Oz helped Gil to his seat. Oscar closed the door behind them, his eyes shining sadly as he watched the raven's wavering steps.

Servants bustled into the room, setting a plate of warm breakfast before each of them. Oz bit his lip, sitting stiffly in his chair. Sharon smiled gently at him from across the table, and Oz tried to smile back, but anxiety was beginning to creep up his throat.

"How're you feeling this morning, Raven?" asked the young Rainsworth, turning her attention to Gil. He smiled, running a hand through his hair.

"A lot better, actually," he said, his eyes still weary but shining with cheer. "Thank you." Catching the worried glance Oz sent him, he reached out a hand to ruffle the boy's hair. "Don't worry any more."

Oz looked away, his fists clenching beneath the table. "Don't push yourself too hard. You're known to do that, so I can't help but worry." He bit his lip.

Gil blinked at him in surprise, but he couldn't seem to find the words to respond. Sharon sent him a sympathetic smile, and he smiled gratefully back. The letter boy came in just then, and everyone glanced up.

Breathing in softly, Oz reached over and switched his plate with Gil's. No one saw the movement, too distracted by the messenger's quiet retreat and Sharon's murmur of another mission for Gilbert. Oz stared down at his lap, terror swirling through his stomach. The raven turned to glance at him, his lips pulled together in a tight line. He bowed his head.

"I'm sorry Break, but I can't take this mission. I don't want to leave Oz alone, and I'm sure you remember what happened when I took him with me." His eyes narrowed to golden slits, though the heavy bags beneath them took away from the effect. Oz bit the inside of his cheek.

"Not to mention you're still not fully recovered from that mysterious illness!" Oscar spluttered, standing slightly in his outrage.

Gil laughed shakily. "A-Ah...That too…." He picked up his fork, spearing an egg and chewing it thoughtfully. "But I do think it was a little weird; I mean, it came on so suddenly, and I feel almost completely fine already."

Break smiled wryly, resting his chin on a slender hand. "Maybe it was some bad food...? The chefs might not have used very fresh ingredients." Oz glanced up at him, and he winked. A chill sank into the blond's stomach.

Gil shook his head. "It can't've been, it was too intense for something as simple as bad food."

"It doesn't matter," said Oscar gently, giving Gil's shoulder a loving squeeze. "As long as you're feeling better, it doesn't do anyone any good to speculate over something so abstract."

Gil blushed. "Of course, Master Oscar. You're right." He glanced at Oz, his brows furrowing when he realized that the blond had yet to touch his food. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Oz swallowed hard. "U-Um…"

"You should eat as much as you can. You were around me kind of a lot while I was sick, I wouldn't want you to catch it somehow." Gil tilted his head, biting his lip at the thought.

Nodding, Oz carefully placed a forkful of eggs into his mouth, his heart flipping with unease as he allowed the food to slide down his throat.

* * *

Gil sipped at his tea, the warmth soothing against his throat. He still felt much too tired to do anything exerting, but Oscar had asked if he and Oz wanted to spend the afternoon outside, as the day held promise to be one of the last warm ones of the season. For fear of tiring out Gil, they'd chosen a sunny spot in the back gardens and set up a picnic blanket. Oscar was leaning against a tree trunk, playing absently with his glasses as he poured over a book. He was smiling.

Gil leaned back on his hands, watching Oz as the boy explored the garden. A faint breeze ruffled his hair. Gil smiled contentedly. He'd made the three of them some sandwiches, and with food and good company, the sun on his face was all he needed to feel as though the day had been put to good use.

Nearby, Oz reached up to pluck a pear from a small fruit tree, the wind stirring the leaves softly. Suddenly, almost as though he'd been pushed by the wind, Oz swayed.

Gil straightened, his brows drawing together worriedly. "Oz?"

Oscar glanced up from his book just in time to see the blond tip to the side, the pear snapping from it's branch with a quiet sound. Both men gasped, Gil jerking forward, but his body screamed in protest at the fast movement, and he was too far away. Oz hit the ground with a quiet thud. The pear rolled away into the grass.

Oscar was at his nephew's side in an instant, tapping the boy gently and calling his name. Gil pushed himself to his feet, moving as fast as his trembling legs would allow, and sank to his knees beside them.

Oz was completely unconscious, his face ashen. He didn't stir despite Oscar's prodding. Gil wrapped his fingers around a clammy wrist, biting his lip at the sluggish pulse. Swallowing hard, the raven pulled Oz into his lap, struggling to calm his rapid breathing. He pressed a hand to the boy's forehead, cloudy green eyes cracking open at his touch. Oscar breathed a sigh of relief.

"Can you hear me?" Gil murmured, his voice quivering with panic.

Oz stared tiredly up at him, breathing shallowly. His eyes slid shut once more, his head lolling against Gil's chest.

Gil glanced at Oscar helplessly. "What—"

"It's the same as it was with you," The duke murmured, his eyes dark with worry.

Gil's heart sank. "You're sure?"

Oscar pursed his lips, threading a hand through his disheveled hair. "Of course not. But it's too similar not to be related somehow."

Glancing down at Oz's limp frame, Gil's heart clenched.

 _Did I….do this?_


	9. Chapter Eight: Not Alone

**A/N: I finished Camp NaNo a week early, but my manuscript still wasn't complete, so I spent may finishing up the first draft. Sorry for the wait! I'm back now, and I should hopefully be able to get chapters out a little more quickly. As for this chapter...I'm not sure how I feel about it.**

 **While I was writing Vincent, I was like 'hmm, I can really picture exactly how this looks, why is that?' and then I realized that I was writing him as Loki. Vincent and Loki are basically the same person, so I feel like someone should make PH marvel AUs...?**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _I am with you,_

 _I will carry you through it all_

 _I won't leave you, I will catch you_

 _When you feel like letting go_

' _Cause you're not, you're not alone_

— _Not Alone, Red—_

* * *

Oz slept fitfully, his face flushed and coated with a sheen of sweat. Gil sat beside the bed, threading his fingers wearily through his hair. Soft afternoon light poured in through the window, creeping across the carpet toward the edge of the bed. Gil watched it with narrowed eyes, his chest fluttering uneasily.

Oz had been fine. He could've _sworn_ Oz had been just fine all through the morning.

Gil passed a tired hand over his eyes. _What could've happened?_

There was a quiet creak as Oscar slipped into the room, his eyes soft and worried. Gil glanced up as he entered, smiling at the small sandwich and glass of water in his hands. "Any changes?"

Gil shook his head, taking the glass so Oscar could set the sandwich on the bedside table. "Unfortunately not. I just wish I knew…"

Oscar nodded in understanding. "That's the problem isn't it? It's hard to have to worry about someone without knowing why."

"Yeah…" Gil breathed out slowly, flashing the duke the best smile he could manage. It was faltering, and Oscar's eyes darkened with sympathy.

"The water's for Oz, but the sandwich is for you." Gil blinked up at him in surprise, and Oscar frowned faintly. "You're still recovering, you need to keep your strength up too."

"Thank you, lord Oscar," said Gil, smiling his gratitude. The duke nodded, leaning forward to ruffle Gil's hair before turning and slipping from the room.

Gil didn't eat the sandwich. His stomach was churning; the mere _thought_ of eating sent a wave of nausea climbing up his throat.

Oz mumbled something unintelligible, shifting in his sleep. He was breathing heavily, his face scrunched with discomfort. Gil stared at him regretfully. _Did he overexert himself trying to take care of me?_ His heart squeezed with guilt. The afternoon passed slowly, and yet Oz still didn't stir. Gil's sandwich grew cold, and with its heat went any shred of his desire to eat it.

Quiet footsteps padded across the carpet, stopping at Gil's side with a quiet sigh. Slender fingers brushed his shoulder. "Oscar made that sandwich himself, you know. It's rude to just let it go to waste."

Gil leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was beginning to feel greasy from the oils in his fingertips. "I'll eat it later, Vince," he said quietly, unable to mask the strain in his voice. Vincent tilted his head, glancing away. Gil caught the stiff line of his jaw out of the corner of his eye, and he swallowed.

"Hey, um…" Gil passed a hand through his hair again, pursing his lips as he tried to find the right words. "When I was sick...did Oz….did he look alright?" Vincent turned, glancing at him curiously, his eyebrows raised. Gil looked down, avoiding his brother's eyes. "Like...did he seem sick, at all?"

Vincent sighed quietly through his nose. "I...didn't see anything unusual about him. He merely seemed worried, and any oddness of his physical health seemed to stem from sleeplessness due to worry." His eyes narrowed. "Which is what's going to happen to _you_ if you don't stop obsessing over him like this. He's a chain, Gil, he'll be fine. Human sickness is nothing compared to the things that live inside the Abyss…"

Gil's fingers clenched into fists around his knees. "When we were younger, Oz was just as susceptible to illnesses as anyone else." Vincent stepped behind him again, but Gil could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"Well, you're still recovering. You shouldn't be wasting your energy—"

Gil spun to face him, scowling darkly. Vincent gave a hard sigh, shaking his head and turning away.

"At least each the sandwich, Big Brother."

Gil watched him go in silence, turning his gaze back to Oz as the door swung shut.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. But Oz didn't stir. Biting his lip, Gil leaned forward, brushing back some of the hair that clung to Oz's cheeks.

* * *

He ended up eating the sandwich after all, his guilt getting the better of him despite the cold, soggy bread from all the time he'd allowed it to sit out. It left an odd taste in his mouth, and he felt another stab of guilt as he realized he'd essentially allowed Oscar's efforts to go to waste.

Though he hadn't mentioned it to anyone for fear of being separated from his master, there was still a faint pang in his stomach, a lingering effect of his sickness. The sandwich seemed to calm it somewhat, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath as he tried to keep his eyes open. Night was falling over the manor, and a servant flittered in to light some candles.

The soft golden light made him even more drowsy, but he forced himself to stay vigilant in case Oz woke. He must've closed his eyes, because the next time he opened them, the house was silent. Gil leaned over to peer at the clock, his eyes widening with surprise as he realized it was nearly midnight.

Oz shifted, a low murmur slipping from his lips. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself awake, Gil reached out tentatively, shaking the boy's shoulder as roughly as he dared. After a long moment, bleary green eyes blinked up at him, glazed with fever.

"Sorry to wake you," Gil breathed, smoothing Oz's hair back from his forehead, his heart sinking at the amount of heat against his hand when he pressed his palm to the blond's skin. "But you haven't had anything to eat all day, and you've been sweating so much, so I'm worried you might be getting dehydrated." He plucked the glass of water from the nightstand, carefully helping Oz to sit up against the pillows.

Oz stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, his head falling back limply when Gil moved away. Gil swallowed. "Can you try to drink a little?" He held the cup to Oz's lips, running his hand gently over the boy's shoulder blades as he took a feeble sip.

"Good," Gil murmured when he was sure Oz couldn't drink anymore. "Thank you." He set the glass back onto the night stand, trying to swallow back the worry that churned in his gut. _I was hoping he'd be able to get more down…_

Sighing quietly, he helped adjust the pillows so Oz could lay down more comfortably again, running a hand through his master's hair and sinking down into his chair once more.

* * *

The servants brought them breakfast the next morning, and Oscar came to eat with them, smiling gently as he pulled up a chair to sit beside Gil. Gil set his plate beside Oz's on the bedside table, shaking the blond gently into wakefulness and holding Oscar's plate for him while he settled down.

Oz's eyes fluttered open, locking on the two plates almost as soon as he could see clearly. Gil didn't see him switch their positions, and Oz leaned back into the pillows with a barely audible sigh.

When he was sure Oscar was as comfortable as he could be, and Oscar had already pestered him quite a bit, Gil finally took his own seat, grabbing a plate from the nightstand and settling down to eat.

"Y'know," said Oscar after a moment, "even if it's like this, it still makes me overwhelmingly happy that I can be with the two of you together again."

Gil smiled softly, his heart fluttering with warmth. "Thank you, Lord Oscar. I feel the same. There's something about the presence of the people you love most that just...makes everything easier, yeah?"

Oscar nodded. Oz shifted then, pushing himself to sit with trembling arms. Gil's eyes widened, and he quickly set his food aside to help the boy sit up, taking the other plate and settling it in the blankets on his lap to curb the heat. Oz sent him a weak, but thankful, smile, his skin waxy and pale with exhaustion. Gil nodded, taking his seat once more.

"Tell me if you need any help alright? Don't be afraid to ask."

"Alright," Oz murmured, staring down at his plate.

Gil watched him out of the corner of his eye. He was glad the boy seemed to be feeling better, even if only slightly, and his increased activity from the previous day lightened the burden of anxiety that had fallen over his heart. Somewhat, at least.

"At least try to eat some of it," said Oscar, reaching forward to give Oz's knee a gentle pat. "We need to keep you well-nourished if we want you to get better quickly." Oz nodded, though he didn't look up as Oscar spoke. He took a small bite of his bread.

Gil smiled.

Oz managed to get most of the food down, curling into his blankets with a quiet sigh when he'd eaten as much as he could. Oscar sent Gil a sad glance, leaning in to run his fingers through his nephew's hair.

Oz quickly slipped into a state of unresponsiveness once more. Gil stood, taking their plates, and brushed a soft hand over Oscar's shoulder. "Would you mind sitting with him for a bit while I…" He nodded down at the plates, but Oscar's gaze flickered with understanding.

"Of course," He shifted to sit in Gil's chair, which was closer to the bed. Oz made a quiet sound in his semi-wakeful state, but he didn't seem to notice Gil's absence.

Gil swept from the room, an odd churning filling his stomach at that thought.

 _You don't really need me. There's nothing I can do to help you anyway..._ He swallowed, turning into the kitchen to drop off the plates. The servants sent him a grateful but confused glance.

Gil made his way out onto one of the sitting room balconies. His fingers had been itching for a cigarette all morning, but he hadn't wanted to leave Oz alone. It appeared this had simply been foolish thinking, because Oz was perfectly fine without Gil by his side.

He always had been, hadn't he?

Gil sighed, taking a long drag and watching the smoke curl into the crisp morning air. _Either way, that doesn't mean I'll leave his side. There are ways I can still be useful to him, and I'll find them._

He nodded to himself, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the railing.

* * *

When he returned, Oscar's gaze was solemn. "He's getting worse again," the duke said quietly. He was perched on the edge of the bed, a glass of water in one hand. Gil hurried to his side.

"Are you sure?"

Oscar nodded. He leaned forward, brushing his fingers through Oz's hair and pushing back the strands that clung to the sweat on his forehead. Oz's eyebrows drew together faintly at the touch, but he didn't otherwise stir. "His temperature just keeps rising."

Gil carded a hand through his hair, scanning Oz's face anxiously. "But wasn't it lower this morning?"

"I thought so," Oscar breathed out, glancing up at Gil. His eyes were dark with worry.

Gil touched Oz's shoulder gently. "Oz? Hey," Oz's face tightened. "Are you awake?" Gil murmured, shooting a glance in Oscar's direction. The duke nodded faintly, and, taking a deep breath, Gil pressed a hand to the boy's forehead.

Oscar was right. Oz was _burning._

"Oh, _Oz…"_ Gil breathed, bringing his palm down to brush against Oz's cheek. Oz shifted, leaning into the touch, breathing out softly.

"Cold…" he mumbled, wrapping his own hands around Gil's and curling onto his side. Gil stared down at him in surprise, a mixture of warmth and anxiety making his chest sting.

Oz's skin was hot against his hand, but Gil sank into his chair with a quiet sigh, sending Oscar a helpless glance. The man smiled wearily back at him.

"His breathing seems off to me," said Gil quietly, a faint frown falling over his face. He leaned in, holding his breath to hear the quiet rasping of air as it rattled through the blond's chest. Setting the glass of water onto the bedside table, Oscar mimicked him, his brows furrowing anxiously.

"You're right. Do you remember any shortness of breath when you were sick?"

Gil shook his head. "I remember my stomach hurting, and I was pretty tired all the time, but I don't think I ever felt like I couldn't breathe…" He tucked the blankets higher around Oz's shoulders with his free hand. "I was already basically better the next morning, do you think this is a condition that comes when things worsen?"

"I'm going to check the library," said Oscar quietly. "I'll be back to eat dinner with you. Have the servants call me if he gets worse." Gil nodded, and the duke swept from the room in a flourish of coats.

* * *

Gil glanced up from the book Oscar had brought him at a faint whimper from Oz. The blond was shifting in his sleep, his fingers tightening around Gil's hand. Gil sat forward in his chair, carding his fingers through Oz's hair, but the boy's face scrunched up at his touch.

"Gil…" Oz inhaled shakily, but his eyes didn't open, and Gil wondered anxiously if he'd woken up.

"Shhh," Gil murmured, twining the fingers of the hand Oz held around his. "It's alright, I'm here. What's the matter?" He smoothed some of the hair from his master's face.

"E-Everyone's dying," Oz breathed, his face twisting with an agony that made Gil's heart clench. "I-I killed them...Gil, I…" his voice broke, his breath hitching as he tried to hold in a sob.

Gil breathed in sharply. "I-It's okay, it's...it's okay," he managed, but Oz shook his head.

"N-No," His face was flushed, his voice hoarse. Warm tears crawled out over his cheeks, creeping down along Gil's fingers. "I...I..didn't mean…"

"Oz, wake up," said Gil, more firmly this time. The blond screwed his eyes shut, trying to shake away Gil's touch. His words faded to incoherent mumbling, his distress rising. "I'm right here," said Gil biting his lip to keep it from quivering.

"Oz, _please—"_

A quiet wail made its way from the boy's throat, feeble and thin. He was crying openly now, but in his fevered state of sleep couldn't seem to wake from the dream. Gritting his teeth, Gil leaned forward and scooped the blond into his arms. Oz cried out in protest, attempting weakly to push him away, but Gil shifted until he stopped fidgeting, at last resting with his head against the raven's chest.

Gil stroked his back gently, whispering soft words of encouragement. Trembling fingers clutched at his shirt, Oz's ragged breathing slowing to a more even pace. Gil breathed out a sigh of relief.

At last, Oz's pulse slowed, his sleep deepening, and he curled into Gil's embrace with a quiet murmur. The raven rested his chin on Oz's head, blanketing the boy with his coat and leaning back into his chair.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, the sunset was painting the curtains gold, light streaming in and casting Oz's hair in a radiant glow. Oscar was there, some plates beside him, still steaming and fresh.

The duke smiled when Gil met his gaze, and Gil's cheeks reddened.

"He had some kind of nightmare," he said quietly, stroking a hand through Oz's hair. The boy stirred faintly at his touch, his eyes opening a crack, and he glanced up at Gil blearily.

"Just in time for dinner," Oscar said with a soft chuckle, pulling up a chair beside Gil's and taking one of the plates. Oz blinked, still staring at Gil's face, and then something strange came over his face as he seemed to register the words. Gil took a plate of his own, moving to take a quick bite before making sure Oz was settled.

"W-Wait!" Oz gasped, his eyes wide. Gil froze, fork halfway to his mouth, staring down at him in surprise. Oz took advantage of his hesitation, reaching up and pulling the plate from his hands, the action so forceful it nearly spilled warm food over both their laps.

"Whoa!" Gil cried, quickly wrapping an arm around Oz's shoulders to keep him from falling. "What're you doing?" Oz was breathing hard, his face pale. He tried to pull away when Gil reached for the plate again, and Gil had to shift his legs to keep the blond from rolling off his lap.

Oscar frowned anxiously. "Oz, the other plate is yours. The servants knew you weren't feeling good and made some cookies for you."

Oz shook his head frantically, his eyes glazed with fever. He pressed the plate close to his chest, staring at Gil wildly.

"Hey," he said gently, holding up his hands to show he didn't mean to try and take it again. "It's okay, I'm not gonna—"

"Y-You can't!" Oz panted. His eyes watered, and Gil sent Oscar a worried glance. The duke's gaze mirrored his confusion.

"D-Don't worry," Gil breathed, he tried to brush a hand through the boy's hair, but Oz shrank away from his touch. "It's okay...just...just tell me what's wrong, alright? What's the matter?"

"Don't you want some cookies?" Oscar wondered. He set his own plate on the edge of the bed, reaching for the one still on the bedside table. "They're apple crisps, I thought those were your favorite,"

Oz glanced to the side, and in his distraction, Gil reached down slowly, trying to pull the other plate from his grasp without Oz noticing. The food was still fairly hot, and he could feel Oz's frame trembling. The last thing the boy needed was a plate of scalding food spilled in his lap.

A chain wound around his wrist, jerking his hand back sharply. Oz whipped his head toward Gil, his gaze glittering fiercely. "You can't!" he said again. Gil swallowed thickly; he could feel Oz's heart racing.

"I-It's alright," he tried again, trying to bite back the sudden surge of memories from the last time Oz's chains had bound him like this. Ten year old memories of Jack Vessalius' glassy eyes and Oz's pale face…

"Oz," said Oscar quietly, brushing the boy's shoulder with a gentle hand, "it's okay, just calm down. Tell us what's wrong—" A second chain snagged his arm and he froze.

Oz stared between them, his gaze wild, nearly feral. But he was breathing hard, and Gil realized with horror that he'd worked himself into such a frenzy that he'd pass out soon.

"Sick," Oz hissed, pushing himself from Gil's lap and onto shaky legs. The chains snapped down, binding both men to their chairs. "You'll—" He tried to take a step and swayed, his breath hitching. "You'll get sick…"

Understanding struck Gil like blazing lightning. He met Oscar's startled gaze with wide eyes, and he could see that the duke had come upon the same realization as he.

"O-Oz…" Gil breathed. The boy backed away from him, sucking in a sharp breath as his back hit the wall. Gil tried to reach forward, but the chain held him firmly in place, scraping painfully against his skin as he shifted and pulled against it. Oz's legs buckled, and he sank to the ground, the plate cradled to his chest. He was mumbling to himself, his eyes wide and glazed.

"Sick, sick...you'll get sick...Gil's sick….should've said something...should've—should've—"

"Oz!" Gil cried, his eyes watering. The boy's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Let us go, Oz, please! We just want to help! It's…" he took a shaky breath. "It's okay, no one's going to eat anything."

Oz's expression shifted, a sudden anxiety crossing his features as he seemed to really see them for the first time. "Promise?" he breathed.

"I promise," said Gil firmly. The chains unwound themselves, disappearing into a faint glitter of light. Oscar sat for a moment, rubbing at his wrist, but Gil launched himself from his chair, sinking to his knees beside the shivering blond. He eased the plate from Oz's hands, his heart twisting as he realized how cold his fingers were.

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," he murmured as Oz made to protest. "No one's going to eat anything right now, it's okay." Oz nodded faintly, gazing up at him for some sign of a lie. Detecting the truth in his words, he allowed the plate to slip from his grasp, and Gil set beside them on the carpet.

"Now," said Gil quietly, "have you been eating from the plate that was supposed to be mine?" He didn't look away from Oz's face as Oscar knelt beside them, his hand brushing Gil's shoulder gently. Oz sucked in a shaky breath, and Gil brought his hands to the boy's face, wiping at the tear tracks with his thumbs. "Oz?"

"I-I'm sorry," Oz managed at last, his eyes wide. "I should've...should've told you…." He swayed, and Gil steadied him gently. "Poison...someone…..poison…" He shook his head, his eyes rolling back, and Gil enveloped him in a soft embrace as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Gil sighed, leaning back on his haunches. He glanced at Oscar, who ran a weary hand through his hair.

"I can't believe…" the duke breathed, shaking his head.

Gil nodded, his stomach churning. "Why didn't he _tell_ someone?"

"He did." The voice was smooth, and Gil glanced back, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Break leaning against the doorframe. "The brat mentioned to me during your illness that he suspected a form of poison, but he was unsure. He didn't want to make everyone nervous if it was simply something you'd contracted, and therefore asked if I'd investigate privately." He folded his arms.

Gil scowled at him. "And you just _let_ him—"

"It was the only way to find a suspect. If we had notified everyone of our suspicion right away, the poisoner would've become more cautious, and our chances of finding them would've decreased."

Gritting his teeth, Gil snapped his gaze away, lifting Oz gently and tucking him back into bed. His face was pale, his cheeks cold with sweat, and Gil swallowed hard. _Why didn't I notice…?_

"So, do you know who's doing it?" Oscar wondered, pushing himself to his feet with a faint grunt. Break's expression tightened.

"No."

" _What?"_ Gil spun to face him, his eyes wide. "Then what was the point? Oz could've died!"

Break frowned. "Though Lady Sharon and I tried our best, we were unable to find a trace of someone poisoning the food. But, upon testing an unfinished plate, we did find poison."

"What…?" Gil breathed, sitting down and running a hand through his hair. He glanced up, aiming a glare at Break. "Who'd want to poison me anyway?"

The hatter shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Gil sighed heavily, passing his hands over his face. "Alright. I'll make food for everyone until we figure it out. That should make sure no one gets sick."

Oscar moved to his side, touching his shoulder gently. "But first you should get some rest, you've been taking care of Oz all day, you can't wear yourself out."

Gil nodded, biting his lip as he swept his gaze over the thin boy's face once more. His chest felt tight, his stomach fluttering with guilt.

 _How_ _could I not_ notice?


	10. Chapter Nine: Anxious

**A/N: This is the longest chapter I think I've ever written xD I might go back through and edit this story later and I'll decide then if I want to cut this up into multiple chapters or leave it as one. I think there are a few places I could've cut it off, but idk.**

 **I'm still not completely satisfied with some of the writing in this chapter, but for now it'll do.**

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators**

* * *

 _But I found in you_

 _What was lost in me_

 _In a world so cold and empty_

 _I could lie awake just to watch you breathe_

 _In the dead of night, you went dark on me_

— _Dark On Me, Starset—_

* * *

Gil sat up with a gasp, blinking furiously as his eyes tried simultaneously to adjust to the darkness and rid themselves of their tears. The curtains glowed with cool blue moonlight, the rest of the room bathed in shadows.

There was a thunderous pounding in his skull, and he doubled over, gasping for breath. His ears were ringing, and he was sure he must've been hallucinating, because he swore he could hear a faint voice speaking to him throughout the sound, though he couldn't make out any of the words. Yet there was something about the voice that made his chest burn, and he pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle the quiet sob that slid past his lips.

The Rainsworth house was silent around him, and his loneliness felt tangible as he cried in the darkness.

* * *

The next time he woke, warm sunlight was streaming in through the open windows. There was a plate of food beside his bed, with a small note in Oscar's elegant handwriting propped near it.

 _I'm glad you managed to get some rest. I made this myself, so you don't have to worry about it. I'm with Oz if you need me,_

 _Oscar._

Gil smiled to himself, picking up the tray and setting it in his lap. To his surprise, the food was already lukewarm bordering on cold, and he glanced at the clock.

 _It's already almost noon?_

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. _I hope I haven't kept Oscar from any important work…_

Gil ate his breakfast quickly, slipping on a new shirt, tying his cravat, and looping his coat over one arm in case he needed to take a smoke break.

When he reached Oz's room, the blond was propped up against the pillows, laughing shyly to something his uncle had said. His face was still pale, but his cheeks were pink with laughter, and the tension in Gil's shoulders immediately eased.

Oz glanced up as he slipped into the room. Gil smiled when Oz met his eyes, but the boy quickly averted his gaze, his fingers tightening around the blankets on his lap.

Gil frowned. "Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything," said Oz, staring down at his lap. His posture was stiff. "It probably would've saved everyone a lot of trouble…"

"You were just doing what you thought was right to protect Gil," said Oscar gently, taking one of Oz's hands and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gil mimicked him, leaning so he could see Oz's face even though the boy was looking down. "Break explained everything to us." He took a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over Oz's knuckles as he searched for the right words. "I'm...unhappy that you put yourself in such a risky position, but I'm not angry at you."

"You're sure?" Oz mumbled. He sent Gil a fleeting glance.

"I'm sure." Gil gave his hand a soft squeeze. He moved to lean back in his chair, but Oz caught his arm suddenly, pushing back his sleeve with wide eyes. At first, Gil was confused, but Oz's sharp intake of breath brought crisp realization into his foggy mind. He pulled his wrist from Oz's grasp gently.

"Did I—"

"It's okay," Gil cut over him. "It was only for a little bit, and it didn't hurt."

But Oz had already begun to shrink in on himself, a hand pressed to his mouth. "B-But, you're all scraped up…"

"That was my own fault," said Gil quickly. "I kept moving around, don't worry, you were more careful than that!"

Oz searched his face, his eyes wide and anxious. Gil smiled warmly, and Oz pressed his lips together, taking in a slow breath. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Gil sighed. "It's alright, Oz. I know." He glanced at Oscar, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. "I'm assuming you didn't find anything illness-wise in the library, but...were there any poisons you might've seen?"

The duke shook his head. "Sorry, but no. Break doesn't have any idea as to what it might've been either."

Gil nodded, breathing out defeatedly. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he straightened. "Oh! But I hope we haven't been taking up too much of your time here, lord Oscar!"

Oscar clapped a hand down onto his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Gil. Any time that I get to spend with the two of you is precious time to me. There's nothing more important."

Heat surged to Gil's cheeks, and he quickly dipped his head so Oscar wouldn't see. Oz laughed quietly, his eyes soft as he peeked at Gil out of the corner of his eye.

* * *

Gil sighed, glancing at the layer of mist that had collected on the window. "It's too bad the warm weather seems to have passed. We never got to have our picnic."

Oscar ruffled his hair gently. "We'll just have to have one next time, right Oz?"

Oz smiled. "Right, Uncle."

Oscar left to speak with Break when bright afternoon light began to creep in through the windows, and Gil leaned back into his chair, placing a Holy Knight book beside Oz in case he wanted it and picking up his cookbook once more.

Oz watched him quietly, his brows furrowing faintly. Gil tried to read a few lines, but the blond's gaze distracted him, and he eventually glanced up.

"Is something wrong?"

Oz glanced down at his lap, his expression tightening. "It's just...um…" His hands clenched in his lap. He took a deep breath. "Have you….been sleeping alright?"

Gil blinked at him. "What?"

"You look tired," Oz mumbled, averting his gaze. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

A shaky laugh bubbled from Gil's throat. "Y-Yeah! Everything's…" But he couldn't bring himself to finish.

Oz glanced at him, a melancholy understanding settling over his face. It was overcast outside, cool afternoon light streaming in through the windows and accentuating the dust in the air. Oz's quiet sigh was loud in the silence. He leaned back into the pillows, gazing up at the ceiling, and as Gil watched him, he found there was something incredibly sad in the air about him. He swallowed.

"Hey, Gil…"

He stiffened. "H-Hm?"

Oz breathed in slowly. "You know you can...tell me about anything, right?" He kept his eyes on the ceiling.

Gil stared at him. The light played oddly with the shadows cast across his face, and for a moment, Gil was fifteen again.

 _You know, you can always tell me what's on your mind…_

"I..had a dream." He spoke the words without thinking, immediately dropping his gaze to his lap when Oz turned to face him. "I-I don't even remember anymore what it was about, but…" He swallowed.

When he looked up, Oz's eyes were dark. "Gil, I...I can't help but feel like we're right on the verge of something _terrible…"_

"What do you mean by that?" Gil murmured, a sick feeling curling down into his stomach. _You feel it too?_

"And I-I don't know if I'll be able to protect you—"

"Protect me?" Gil echoed. He leaned forward, brushing Oz's hand gently. "Oz, it's my job to protect _you."_

Oz looked at him, his face twisting with a strange expression Gil couldn't quite make out. But he didn't say anything, only gave a slight nod and wrapped his fingers loosely around Gil's.

* * *

By evening, Oz seemed well enough to get up and walk around a bit, and Gil took him down to the kitchen to watch him make their dinner. Oz leaned back against the counter, occasionally bending forward out of the way when Gil needed things from the cupboard behind him. Gil glanced at him every now and then out of the corner of his eye, faintly confused as to why he'd chosen to stand rather than sit on the edge as he'd done in the past.

He crouched to get a second pan out of a lower cupboard, his hair falling over his face and hiding his glance in Oz's direction. In his apparent distraction, Oz had pressed his hands to the counter, pushing down lightly. His arms shook, and he relaxed back against the edge with a sigh.

 _Of course...I'm such an idiot!_

Gil tried to stand, forgetting his head was partially inside the pan cupboard, and he yelped as he banged it on the sharp edge. There was a clatter of pans as he dropped the one he'd been holding onto.

"A-Are you okay?" Oz gasped, stepping forward anxiously. He hovered uncertainly at Gil's side as the raven extracted himself from the cupboard after recovering his soup pot.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Gil mumbled rubbing at his head and swinging over to set the pot beside the stove. He turned to Oz, who had retreated to the corner area of the counter where he felt he'd be out of the way.

Oz sent him a curious glance as he approached, his eyes widening with surprise as Gil caught his waist and lifted him gently onto the countertop.

"Better?" He asked quietly, quickly turning away, though not before he caught sight of the color that rushed to Oz's cheeks.

"Y-Yeah, thank you…" The blond dropped his gaze to his lap, waves of embarrassment emanating from him.

Gil nodded, though he couldn't bring himself to turn around again. _Oz's still so thin..._ He chewed anxiously at the inside of his cheek. He tried to finish dinner quickly.

"Do you need help carrying anything?" Oz wondered as Gil stepped back to look over the dishes spread across the countertop.

"Umm…" Gil glanced at him, his brows furrowed. Biting his lip, Oz pushed himself off the counter, his legs nearly buckling as they hit the floor, and he grabbed at the rim of the counter to hide the sudden unbalance. Gil's expression tightened. "No, that's alright, thank you though."

Oz's face fell slightly. "You're sure?"

"Y-Yeah," Gil mumbled, taking a few plates and moving toward the door. Oz hurried to open it for him, trailing behind until they reached the dining room.

Most of the others were already inside, candles placed along the table and throughout the room to illuminate it despite the darkness outside the great windows. Break was discussing something quietly with Oscar while Sharon paged through a novel, and echo was just pulling out a chair for Vincent when their presence was detected.

"Big Brother!"

Gil stiffened. Oz shrank behind him.

Vincent marched to their side, his eyes blazing. "Why did you _omit_ to tell me that someone attempted to poison you?"

Gil took a startled step back, shifting one of the plates to keep the sauce from sliding into the rest of the food. "I-I, um…" Oz's small fingers fisted in the back of his shirt, and he managed a smile. "W-Well...it's not like it really matters anymore," he said, pushing gently past his brother to set the plates on the table. He turned to get more, but Vincent had positioned himself in the doorway, his arms folded.

"Of course it still matters! Just because you've chosen to make the food yourself doesn't mean you're guaranteed reprieve from another attempt on your life! If someone really wants to kill you, they aren't just going to be _deterred—"_ He broke off sharply, his gaze flashing to Oz.

Catching the malevolence in the look, Gil placed his hands on his hips. "Vince, please, I need to get the rest of the food."

Scowling darkly, the blond stepped aside, and Gil motioned for Oz to follow him back to the kitchen. The relief on his master's face was blatant.

"So, um," Gil began, taking as many plates as he could safely carry and nudging at the kitchen door with his hip. Oz grabbed one this time as well, averting his eyes with an anxious grimace when Gil saw him.

"I think…" said Gil quietly. "It would be helpful if you explained to me what's going on between you and Vincent."

"I think it would be better if I don't," Oz mumbled, locking his gaze on the floor. Gil glanced back at him, frowning faintly at the tense posture the boy had assumed. With a sigh, he turned, stopping in the hall so they wouldn't draw near enough to the dining room that the others might hear them.

"Oz, listen. Whatever he might've threatened you with or whatever, I'll make sure it doesn't happen. I promise. Vince will listen to me—"

"Dinner's gonna get cold," Oz interrupted him, trying to slip past him down the hall. Gil moved so he couldn't without either of them dropping a plate.

Oz frowned up at him. "Just let it go, alright?"

"I _can't,_ Oz!" said Gil. The plates were getting hot in his hands, but he didn't want to concede. "Not when your safety might be on the line!"

"But it's not!" Oz sighed, "I'm fine."

"But—"

"Gil, have you ever thought maybe there are things you don't remember because you don't _need_ to remember them?"

The raven stopped short. Oz was holding the plate with both hands now, his fingers tight to keep it from slipping from his hands. "O-Oz, I—"

"Gil, maybe you don't remember because you couldn't _handle_ remembering!" His expression was fragile, some deep anxiety consuming his features. Biting his lip to stop it from quivering, Oz pushed past him and hurried to the dining room. Gil watched him go, lowering his gaze after a moment to the plates in his hands.

 _Oz doesn't think I could handle my own memories?_

The thought made his stomach tighten. What horrible truths might his memories reveal, if Oz didn't believe he could cope with them?

Taking a deep breath, he slipped down the hall after his master.

The others smiled as he entered, but Oz didn't look up from the table. Gil set the dishes where there was room, sitting down beside Oz, and after a word of thanks they all began to eat.

"I'm leaving for Pandora tomorrow," said Oscar, taking a sip of his wine. When Gil raised his head in disappointed surprise, he smiled and continued, "I'll only be gone for a day or two. There are some things I need to check on."

Oz nodded faintly, though he didn't say anything.

Oscar seemed to notice his silence, for he sent Gil a faintly worried glance, tilting his head curiously in Oz's direction. The raven shook his head, swallowing down his reply for fear of Oz becoming irritated with him.

The rest of their meal passed mostly in silence.

When everyone had eaten their fill, the servants bustled in to carry away the dishes. Sharon and Break disappeared to the library, while Vincent and echo made to retreat to their rooms. Oz pushed himself to his feet, his face paling when he tried to take a step. His fingers caught the edge of the table tightly to hide the way his legs trembled.

Gil caught his shoulder gently, keeping him balanced. "Here," he murmured, "let me help you." Before Oz could protest, Gil scooped him gently into his arms. The blond struggled weakly for a moment, but, as Gil had suspected, he was exhausted and eventually slumped into the embrace.

"You're still getting better," said Gil quietly as he slipped through the halls. "You need to make sure you don't push yourself." Oz's eyes were half-lidded, his only response to Gil's words was a quiet mumble.

He tucked the blond into bed with a sigh, wrapping the blankets around him gently so that he wouldn't shake them off if he moved in his sleep. Gil turned to leave, but a small hand shot out and caught his sleeve.

"Hm?" Gil whispered, glancing back. But Oz's eyes had fallen shut, and he simply shifted, curling further beneath the blankets. Smiling to himself, Gil picked up a book, settling down to read while Oz slept. He didn't retire to his room until later in the evening, when he was sure Oz had been sleeping long enough that he wouldn't wake and be disconcerted to find himself alone.

* * *

Oz opened his eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the darkness. He was alone, he realized after a moment, and he sat up slowly. His heart was pounding, and he pressed a hand to his chest, breathing out slowly. The sound was loud and empty in the silence.

He glanced at the clock, slowly slipping from the bed at the affirmation of the late hour. Gil would certainly have fallen asleep by now. He clutched at his shirt, trying to quiet the sound of his breathing as he slipped out into the hall, his bare feet making no sound against the carpet.

It was always odd to be awake and about when others were asleep, and Oz padded through the halls in a surreal sort of daze. All the shadows seemed longer, every noise more dangerous, yet there was a sense of calm, too, that came from solitude and darkness.

At last he came to the door he'd been looking for, and he pushed it open gently, slipping into Gil's room without a sound. The raven was sleeping peacefully, something Oz was glad for, and he took a moment to watch him before settling down on the floor, leaning back against one of the sofas in a spot where he felt he could see the whole room clearly.

If someone really was trying to kill Gil, Oz wasn't going to let them get anywhere near him.

* * *

When the sun began to paint the sky in warm pink light, Gil stirred faintly, his eyes fluttering as he began to wake. Oz stood and stretched, stepping out into the hall.

* * *

"Giiiil!"

A small weight slammed into his lap, and Gil's eyes flew open, a startled grunt forced from his lips. Oz grinned down at him.

"O-Oz?" Gil groaned, making to sit up, but Oz pressed him back down with a hand on his shoulder. Gil blinked, still struggling to clear the sleep from his eyes, still reeling from the surprise wake up call. "What're you doing?" he managed at last, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

He blinked up at Oz, suddenly noticing the offness about the blond's smile.

"I figured we could maybe go into town early to get supplies for breakfast. Besides," Oz sent him a wink. "What good does it do you to sleep all day, anyway?"

Gil stared at him.

 _Something...is very wrong._

* * *

Gil couldn't deny his master's wishes, and so they took a carriage into town despite Gilbert's lingering unease. He'd told the servants to notify Break and Sharon where they'd gone as soon as the two woke, hoping they might have backup in case they ran into any trouble.

Oscar had still been in bed as well, and Gil glanced out the carriage window with a sigh, watching the mansion fade into the distance. He'd wanted to say goodbye to the duke before he set off for Pandora, but he doubted they'd be back in time to catch him.

Oz lapsed into silence during the ride, staring out the window at the passing landscapes. Gil took the opportunity to study him, searching his face for any sign of what might be wrong. He seemed pale, faint circles lingering beneath his eyes, but his attitude was so upbeat that Gil couldn't confidently assume that he was simply tired.

He sighed quietly to himself, resting his chin in a hand. _Oz, why can't you ever just be honest with me about what's going on?_

* * *

The market wasn't busy, as most people didn't really get out and about for shopping before lunchtime. Oz followed Gil from stall to stall, offering to help carry anything Gil needed him to carry, but the raven denied, bent on studying Oz.

The autumn air was cold, their breath fogging before them as they walked. Gil bit his lip. _I hope Oz is warm enough..._ The blond was wearing a coat, but it was nothing special compared to Gil's and the raven decided if Oz looked too cold he'd give it to him.

But Oz was cheerful, his cheeks tinged a light pink from the cold, his smile bright each time he met Gil's eyes.

Gil swallowed. That only worried him more.

After a while, he noticed that the blond began to trail behind, and he glanced back anxiously. Oz had steadied himself against a wall with an arm. He was breathing hard, his eyes dull and tired, but when he caught Gil watching him, he quickly straightened.

"Alright," said Gil gently as Oz caught up to him, "I've got everything I need, why don't we head back to the carriage?"

"Wait," said Oz, glancing up and grabbing Gil's sleeve. He was still trying to catch his breath, and Gil tried to pretend it didn't worry him as much as it did.

 _We haven't even been walking around for very long, it's not like Oz to get tired so quickly…_

"There's something I haven't gotten yet." Oz's eyes were wide and anxious. "Please, Gil?"

Gil took a deep breath, running a gentle hand through Oz's hair. "Alright...but don't hesitate to tell me if you start to get tired…"

Oz laughed, but it was breathy and weak. "T-Tired? Gil, what do you take me for?" He knocked his fist against the raven's shoulder, turning away quickly.

"Blueberries?" Gil wondered aloud, staring in surprise at the stall Oz had lead him to. The blond ignored him, simply fishing for some coins in Gil's pocket and buying a small basket's worth.

The walk back to the carriage was slow. Oz tried to keep up with Gil, but he could see the boy's tiredness plainly, and slowed his pace so Oz wouldn't push himself.

He wasn't surprised when Oz fell asleep on the ride back to the manor, but it made his stomach flutter with worry.

* * *

As he'd assumed, Oscar had already left by the time they returned, and Gil sighed inwardly as he carried in the groceries, trying to let Oz sleep as long as possible.

Returning to the carriage, Gil bit his lip, passing a weary hand through his hair. Gently, he pulled Oz's limp frame into his arms, trying to keep him as still as possible to prevent him from waking. Oz shifted at his touch, curling into Gil's chest with a faint mumble of something the raven couldn't make out. Gil smiled, pulling him close and carrying him inside. Oz's eyes cracked open when they reached the stairs, and Gil sighed.

"Gil?" the blond mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. His cheeks colored as realization came upon him. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to fall—"

"It's alright," Gil interrupted him, shifting the boy's weight in his arms. Oz reached up to loop an arm around Gil's shoulders, taking some of the pressure off the raven's arms. "But you should've just told me you were tired."

"Really, I'm not though," Oz tried, but Gil scowled at him and he fell silent.

Gil carried the blond to a nearby sitting room, setting him gently on one of the couches. "I'm going to go make breakfast, okay?" he said, fetching the boy a blanket and tucking it around him carefully.

"Wait, I wanna help," said Oz, wrapping the blanket around himself and standing up. Gil squeezed his shoulder gently.

"No, that's alright. Why don't you just take a nap for a while?"

He turned to leave before Oz could protest, but the boy followed him out, still wrapped in the blanket. Gil sighed, making his way down to the kitchen anyway. If Oz was that determined not to nap, he wouldn't sleep even if Gil locked him in his room.

* * *

At first, Oz just perched on the counter to watch, occasionally handing Gil things when he asked for them, but after a while, he hopped down, taking a mixing bowl and some supplies and clearing out a corner of the counter to make something own his own.

"What're you doing?" Gil wondered, glancing over from his own set of bowls. Oz sent him a smirk over his shoulder.

"It's a secret," he said cheerfully, a glint in his eye. When his back was turned, Gil stared at him.

It had taken time, but he'd gotten used to the shyer, more anxious person that his master had become. The recurrence of Oz's playful attitude was unfamiliar and frankly, somewhat frightening.

 _And so suddenly, too..._ Gil swallowed. Something in his chest told him that something was very, very wrong.

He forced himself to finish cooking, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He was just stepping back to look over the food when Oz held out a plate to him, filled with a circle of somewhat lopsided muffins. Gil stared at them in surprise, his eyes widening as he realized that the small blue chunks were blueberries.

"You made…"

Oz sent him a faltering smile, staring down at the floor. His cheeks were flushed, his hands trembling on the plate. Gil took it from him slowly, his heart fluttering with a warmth that spread through his chest.

 _Blueberry muffins are my favorite..._ His mind wandered back to the time he and Oz had made them together, back when he didn't know Oz was a chain, and his eyes watered. _Ten years of time that we'll never get back…_

"O-Oz...you didn't have to…."

"I wanted to." Oz glanced up from beneath his bangs, his face small and anxious. "I wanted to thank you...for everything….for just being here…" His voice quivered, and he trailed away, averting his eyes.

Setting the plate on the counter, Gil tugged the blond into a hug. Oz yelped at the sudden embrace, but after a moment, he sank into it, wrapping his arms tightly around Gil.

"I-I'm glad you're okay, Gil," Oz mumbled into his chest. Gil was startled to feel the faint chill of tears soaking through his shirt. "After the poisoning and everything, I…" He shook his head, burying his face further into Gil's shirt.

Gil let his chin rest in the blond's hair, squeezing Oz even tighter. "Thank you," he mumbled wetly. "Really, Oz, thank you."

* * *

Gil set the muffins beside him at the breakfast table, sending Vincent a glare when his brother opened his mouth to scoff at their appearance. Oz kept his eyes low, starting mostly at the table or down at his lap, a pleased blush still lingering on his cheeks.

"Sorry about how long that took," said Gil, glancing at Break and Sharon apologetically. They'd left early for town, but this breakfast was still bordering a bit on lunch.

Sharon smiled gently. "That's alright, I've always quite liked brunch." She smiled cheerfully and some of the weight in Gil's chest eased.

 _Although…_

He glanced at Oz. While he was extremely grateful for the boy's work and care in trying to make him his favorite muffins...Gil swallowed a sip of water, staring down into the glass.

 _He's been acting so odd today….I just can't help but feel that something's out of place._

* * *

"Goodnight," Gil murmured, pressing a faint kiss to Oz's forehead and glancing away quickly so Oz wouldn't see his embarrassed blush. Oz ran his fingers over the spot, still blinking away his surprise at the gesture.

"Um, the muffins…" He shifted beneath the blankets, watching the candlelight flicker off the curve of Gil's cheek. "Were they alright? I-I know you said they were, but…" He couldn't meet the raven's eyes.

Gil leaned over, smoothing some of the hair from Oz's face with a soft smile. "They were excellent," he murmured. It wasn't a lie—while their appearance had been lacking, the flavor had been extremely pleasant, and Gil had eaten the entire plate's worth fairly quickly. He'd offered Oz one, but the blond had denied. "Thank you again, really Oz, it...it meant a lot to me."

Oz blushed, smiling shyly.

"Get some sleep, though," said Gil quietly, "alright?" He frowned faintly. "You seemed pretty tired today, I don't want you to wear yourself out."

Oz nodded faintly, his eyes already drooping. "Okay, Gil." he murmured, taking the raven's hand and squeezing it gently. "'Night."

Gil squeezed Oz's hand back, tucking the covers around him once more and slipping from the room.

* * *

When the clock sounded just before midnight, Oz rose, padding silently down the hall until he reached Gil's room. He opened the door a crack, peeking in to make sure the raven was asleep. Satisfied that his entrance wouldn't be noticed, he slipped into the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. This night, Gil's sleep seemed restless, his breath quick and shallow in the darkness.

Oz stepped to his side anxiously, running his fingers lightly through Gil's hair, not daring to comfort him otherwise. His breathing evened out at the touch, and Oz sank down beside the bed with a faint breath.

He tried his best to calm Gil when he dreamt, but he feared waking the man, and often had to force himself to watch helplessly as he cried out in his sleep.

It was much harder to stay awake this time, but he managed, swallowing back the faint nauseous feeling that had begun to rise in his stomach.

It was later in the morning when Gil began to wake, and Oz again slid from the room, this time lingering outside the door until he heard the raven get out of bed.

* * *

Gil was just finishing tying his cravat when the door opened, and Oz slipped in, smiling softly. "How're you this morning?" he asked, the cheerful air he radiated again setting Gil's nerves on edge.

He turned, eyeing the blond anxiously. "Are you alright?"

Oz stopped, a faint frown falling over his face. "Alright? What're you talking about?" The circles beneath his eyes were darker now. Gil grit his teeth.

"Have you been having trouble sleeping? You look tired." He stepped to Oz's side, touching his shoulder gently, and he felt him stiffen.

"I could ask you the same thing," Oz countered, stepping away and folding his arms. Gil blinked, his brows furrowing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," said Oz sharply, turning away and leaving the room before Gil could ask further. The raven was left staring after him in surprise, the familiar sting of worry gnawing at his stomach.

* * *

Oz walked quickly, not quite sure where he was going, but there was a sharp churning in his gut, begging him to get away. The air around him seemed thick, his head buzzing and heavy on his shoulders. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing out, crying to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. Why did Gil always have to be so nosy?

Frowning, he opened his eyes, blinking to try and clear his vision. Everything was blurry, the other side of the hall distorted and unclear. _Gil's only nosy because he cares. Why did I get so upset?_

Oz sighed, passing a hand over his face and trying to ignore the swishing nausea in his stomach.

* * *

"Hey, Oz?"

"Hm?" The blond didn't glance up from his book.

Gil pursed his lips. Oz had been quiet throughout breakfast, hardly eating anything. He'd claimed he wasn't hungry, and had seemed unfocused and lost inside his own thoughts. Gil closed the book he'd been flipping through and set it back on the shelf.

"Do you want me to make some tea?"

"Umm...sure," he said after a moment, his brows furrowing down at his book.

"How much sugar?"

Gil knew Oz's usual preference, but he seemed off today, so it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Umm...sure," Oz repeated, still not looking up. After a moment he turned a page. Gil stared at him, a sick feeling crawling up his throat.

"What? Oz...did you hear me?" He stepped closer, watching the boy carefully. Oz paused, blinking. He looked up slowly.

"You asked me if I wanted tea,"

Truly worried now, Gil sat down on the coffee table in front of Oz. "Yeah, and you already answered me. I asked how much sugar you wanted." He reached out to press the back of his palm to Oz's forehead, but he tried to duck away. Gil caught his shoulder, holding him still. "You don't feel too warm…"

Oz frowned faintly, blinking quickly as he tried to remember. After a moment, he laughed shakily, turning his attention back to the book. "S-Sorry about that...ah….just the usual amount of sugar please,"

Gil didn't move, watching him anxiously. Oz's fingers trembled as he turned a page. Taking a deep breath, Gil pushed himself from the coffee table, releasing the air he'd gathered as a long sigh. "Alright, I'll be right back."

He paused in the library doorway, eying the blond once more. Oz reached up to brush a hand through his hair, shaking his head faintly. Swallowing, Gil resolved to return as quickly as possible.

* * *

Oscar returned late that afternoon, tapping on the door to the library and pulling Oz and Gil into a warm embrace when they rushed to his side. As he released them, Gil tugged on his sleeve, inclining his head that they should step out a moment.

"Is something wrong?" asked Oscar anxiously, his brows furrowing at the look on Gil's face.

"I-I'm not sure," Gil admitted, glancing back to make sure Oz wasn't listening. He could see the blond perched on one of the window sills, leaning out to look at something. "He's just...he's been acting really strange since you left, and I…" He swallowed. "I can't help but worry."

Oscar's warm hand fell gently onto his shoulder as the duke leaned in, his expression tightening. "Strange how?" His gaze trailed over Gil's shoulder, watching Oz for some sign of oddity.

"His mood's all over the place," Gil murmured, glancing down at his hands. "He's been getting tired quickly, and earlier…" Oscar frowned down at him anxiously, prompting him to finish. Gil bit down hard on his lower lip. "Earlier he forgot something I'd just asked him a moment ago…"

"Hey Oz?" Oscar called, stepping back into the room. Oz glanced back, smiling faintly and pushing himself to his feet. "You'd tell us if...there was something troubling you...right?"

Oz blinked, opening his mouth to answer immediately, but he faltered. "Right, of course!" he said after a moment, smiling faintly.

Oscar nodded, running a hand through Oz's hair, but Gil could see the uncertainty on his features.

The three of them settled down to read together, Oscar and Gil keeping a careful watch over Oz. There were times when the blond seemed to just sit and stare into the distance, his eyes glazed.

"Oz?" Gil called quietly during one of these times, reaching forward to tap the blond's shoulder gently. There was a moment where Oz didn't seem to register Gil's actions, but after a second he blinked, turning to glance at the raven curiously.

"Gil?"

"Um…" Gil leaned back, suddenly unsure how to proceed. He glanced at Oscar, who seemed to share his uncertainty.

They knew _something_ was wrong, but without knowing what, there was nothing they could do to be of any help.

"Nevermind," Gil mumbled, picking up his book and hiding his face behind the pages. Still watching him curiously, Oz did the same, his eyes flickering with faint confusion.

After finishing flipping through his current book, Oz pushed himself to his feet, though neither Gil nor Oscar missed the way his hand shot out to steady himself on the edge of the couch. Without a glance in their direction, the blond moved over to scour the shelves for something new to read.

"You're right," said Oscar quietly, keeping his eyes on Oz. Gil glanced at him anxiously. "He looks dead on his feet."

"Do you have any ideas about what might be wrong?" Gil breathed, trying to pretend he was still focused on his book in case Oz glanced back.

"I…" Oscar sighed, running a hand through his bangs. "I can't say for sure. He just looks tired to me, but to get this tired so quickly...he'd have to have hardly gotten any sleep at all."

Gil rubbed his fingers over the weathered pages of his book. "He has been getting up pretty early lately, but…" He shook his head. "I just don't know."

Suddenly, Oscar made a sharp intake of breath, and Gil glanced up, his eyes widening as he saw Oz. The blond was reaching up to grab a book from a higher shelf, his back facing them. His fingers brushed the spine of the book and he stretched higher onto his toes. There was a brief moment where he looked about to grab it, but he swayed faintly, one hand shooting out to brace himself on the small decorative table beside him.

It wasn't enough. Oz's swayed again, nearly falling against the bookshelf. His knees buckled. Gasping sharply, Oscar and Gil jerked from their seats, managing to catch him before he fully hit the ground, but the fall had jostled the table and the vase that had been atop it rolled down, smashing to pieces on the library carpet. The water from it splashed up onto Gil's leg as he sank to his knees.

Oz went limp, his full weight suddenly heavy in Gil's arms. With Oscar's help, Gil shifted the blond so he could be held more comfortably. His face was pale and when Gil pressed an anxious palm to his forehead, his skin was clammy.

"S-Sorry—" Oz tried, struggling to push himself into a sitting position, but his arms buckled beneath him, and he collapsed back onto Gil's knees.

"It's alright," Oscar murmured, carding a hand through Oz's hair. "Don't push yourself."

"He's right," said Gil quietly, lifting Oz gently and getting to his feet. "Why don't you try and rest for a bit?"

He carried the blond to his room, settling down beside him to continue reading while he drifted to sleep. When Oz woke later in the evening, he had barely recovered any energy, and Oscar slipped out to ask Break if he had any thoughts about the matter.

"You're sure you're alright?" Gil murmured, gently brushing some of the hair from Oz's face. The blond stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, glazed with exhaustion.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "just tired…"

"I feel like you didn't eat enough today," Gil told him softly, anxiously working his lower lip between his teeth. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Oz shook his head faintly, his eyelids drooping. He breathed in quickly, keeping himself awake. "'M not hungry…" His words were beginning to slur together, and Gil sighed quietly, touching his forehead lightly.

"Alright, if you're sure. Promise me you'll eat more tomorrow, though, alright?"

Oz nodded, his eyes slipping shut, and Gil sat back, watching him for a moment with his lips pursed. Oz seemed to have fallen asleep, and Gil pushed himself to his feet with a sigh.

* * *

Gil opened his eyes, staring up at the dark ceiling in faint confusion. His chest felt odd and tight, the lingering effect of a dream, though again he couldn't remember what it had consisted of. He wasn't sure what had woken him, an odd sense of unease curling down into his gut. He got out of bed slowly, grabbing his gun from the bedside table.

Gil glanced around anxiously. The moonlight was bright, and he was startled to see a small form in the darkness, resting back against the side of the bed. Gasping quietly, he sank to his knees, staring at Oz's slack face as he slept, obvious from his awkward posture that he hadn't meant to fall asleep. Gil tossed his gun aside.

He reached out a tentative hand, shaking Oz's shoulder gently. Oz gasped sharply, his eyes shooting open, one hand catching Gil's wrist and forcing it back. Gil yelped, jerking backward, startled by the bright crimson of his master's eyes.

Oz stared at him, blinking for a moment in bleary confusion, and then his eyes widened, fading to green as he released Gil's wrist.

"S-Sorry, I—" He shook his head, pressing a hand to his temple.

"Um…" Gil watched him anxiously. "What're you doing?"

Oz pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, rubbing them tiredly. "It doesn't matter…" he mumbled, letting out a shaky breath. "Just go back to sleep."

Scowling, Gil pried the blond's hands away from his face, forcing Oz to look at him. "No, tell me what's going on. Oz, you almost passed out earlier, you can't keep leaving me in the dark like this!"

"I-I…" Oz let the words die away, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the bed with a sigh. "If someone tried to poison you...there's someone out there who wants to kill you…." He was obviously beginning to fall asleep again, and Gil swallowed, guilt rising up in his chest as he pictured Oz sitting up awake in his room every night, barely able to function anymore.

"And so...you…."

"They won't get past...me…" Oz's head lolled sideways for a moment before he straightened, forcing his eyes open. "Th-They won't…"

Gil leaned forward, scooping the blond into his arms. Oz protested weakly, but Gil could already feel him going slack, his narrowed eyes slipping shut when he couldn't keep himself awake anymore.

"Idiot," Gil mumbled, clenching his jaw. He tucked Oz into his bed gently, holding him down when the blond tried again to push himself back to alertness. "You're already half asleep, don't fight it." He sighed heavily, crawling into bed beside him and rolling onto his side, glaring into Oz's glazed gaze. "You can protect me just fine from right here, so just relax."

There was no response, just a slow exhale as Oz slipped into sleep. Gil watched him silently for a moment, waiting, but Oz didn't wake again, and the raven allowed himself to fall back into the warm darkness as well.

* * *

Again, when Gil opened his eyes, he wasn't sure what woke him. He lay still in the darkness for a moment, holding his breath, listening to the quiet sound of Oz beside him, but straining his ears for any undercurrent of noise.

At last, he heard it, the faint brush of fabric against skin, the quiet hum of another life nearby. His heartbeat quickened, his mind immediately flashing to the exhausted Oz beside him. One of the boy's hands reached out, snaking around his own, and Gil felt sick with the need to protect him.

The presence drew to a stop outside the door, lingering a moment in the hall, and Gil took the pause to grab some of the blankets, rolling so Oz was safely nestled beneath him, and pulling the blankets over them both.

The blond snapped awake at the sudden movement, his eyes widening as he found himself staring up into Gil's face, and Gil clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to signal to him silently the danger they might be in.

The door opened with hardly a sound, the brush against the floorboards and the crawling of unease along his spine the only clues of a third presence in the room with them.

Gil grit his teeth, trying to silence the sound of his breathing, difficult with the frantic beat of his heart in his chest, quickening with each anxious thought.

Normally, intense situations left him feeling oddly calm, but with Oz here, _right here,_ and in no condition to ward off an attack….

Oz's breath was hot and quick against his hand. He looked small and fragile beneath Gil, his arms curled close to his chest. Gil prayed that he was big enough to conceal Oz's frame completely, prayed that the blankets were thick enough to disguise their dual forms, prayed that the attacker would fall for it, wouldn't suspect anything out of the ordinary.

The feather-light footsteps came to a stop beside the bed.


	11. Chapter Ten: Shards of the Past

**A/N: Hi there, it's been awhile, huh? I'm so sorry about vanishing on a cliffhanger like that...This chapter was actually written when I posted the first one (a year ago :c) but I didn't like how the fight had ended up and I was afraid to post it. I actually ended up writing both this chapter and the next last June, but I just wasn't happy with them at all and I had lost sight of where I wanted this story to go, so I didn't know how to fix them.**

 **Somewhat suddenly toward the end of May I remembered what I had intended, so I rewrote this entire chapter and I'm currently rewriting the next one :3 I still really hate how this fight turned out, but I've decided to ignore it and post it anyway, since a poorly written chapter is better than no chapter...?**

 **Anyway...sorry sorry again about the long wait, I hope you like the chapter (If you're still here, wow)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators, I don't own Pandora Hearts or the song.**

* * *

 _Soothing brushstrokes, scraping paint_

 _Loosen your grip, before it all fades_

 _Vibrant rays, eclipsed by the haze_

— _Colorful Mind, Broken Iris—_

* * *

Gil's pulse thundered in his ears, his head pounding with the pressure of trying to quiet his anxious breathing. Oz stared up at him with wide eyes. He'd stilled beneath Gil, listening.

There was a pause.

Gil took a deep breath. Before the stranger had a chance to move, he rolled to the side, whipping the blankets away and lifting his gun. His finger tightened around the trigger. Ready to shoot.

Instantly, a hand clapped down over his eyes. Gil froze, terror striking his chest.

 _I don't want to shoot without knowing who I'm shooting, but if I hesitate…._

Oz made a startled sound. Gil grit his teeth, trying to pry the hand away. _I don't have time for this!_

A metallic jingle split the air, a sudden weight dropping down over Gil's chest. Oz cried out in the darkness. Gil's heartbeat quickened with terror.

"Oz, are you alright?" Gil gasped, trying to sit up. Just as he managed to push the hand from his face, it darted down again poking his eyes. A split-second later he was hit again, a fist slamming down onto his nose. He cried out, jerking from the sudden pain. His hands flew to his face, sticky and warm with blood.

"G-Gil!" cried Oz. He was closer than Gil had realized. The gun fell from Gil's grip, clattering to the floor. The weight on top of him shifted, sliding forward off the edge of the bed. There was a sharp smack, and Oz yelped, but it was followed by another clink of metal.

Their attacker grunted. There was another heavy thud, a yelp, this time from someone unfamiliar, and a low snarl. Oz cried out. The nightstand beside the bed rattled.

"No!" Oz gasped suddenly. A weight slammed down onto Gil's stomach. The raven gasped, his body jerking at the sudden weight in his lap. He tried to blink the tears from his eyes, but they were still burning from being poked. The weight slid away slowly, ending with a thump down on the floor.

"O-Oz!" he managed, his heart pounding. "Oz, are you alright?"

He was met with only breathless coughing, and his chest ached with terror.

Just as Gil's vision finally began to clear, the door burst open. A rush of air followed it, and Gil pushed himself upright at last, still wiping the blood from his face. He glanced around blearily.

The window was open, the shutters clattering against the side of the house in the breeze. Break leaned out of it, a deep frown settled over the portion of his face that Gil could see.

Oscar was crouched on the floor, where Oz's small frame was crumpled. "Are you alright, Gil?" he asked, glancing up anxiously. Gil nodded, wiping roughly at the blood with his sleeve. He immediately focused his attention on Oz, who was still struggling to breathe.

"Oz, what happened?" Gil gasped, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to try and crouch down beside them. He almost stumbled, but Oscar steadied him with a gentle hand on his arm. Oz shook his head faintly, struggling to push himself up on trembling arms. Blood ran down from his temple. Gil's eyes widened. "You're bleeding!"

Oz shook his head again, swatting Gil's anxious hands away weakly. Gil glanced at Oscar, and together they helped Oz to sit up. He doubled over again immediately, hands pressed to his chest as he coughed. As the coughs quieted, Oz was left trembling in their arms. Gil used his already bloody sleeve to wipe the blood from Oz's cheek.

"B-Baskerville…" he said hoarsely. "Couldn't see...hood…."

"Whoever it was, they got away," said Break, closing the window and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. His expression was thoughtful and stormy.

Oscar sighed, passing a hand through his hair. It was wild from sleep, and he tried to push the drooping strands from his eyes. "It's alright, we'll figure this out. But...for right now…" He turned his gaze back to Oz, swallowing quietly.

"'m fine," Oz managed, but the words had begun to slur together. Gil's heart clenched with worry. His nose still stung, but he'd only been hit once; he had no idea what might've happened while he'd been incapacitated.

 _If only I wasn't so weak._ Gil grit his teeth.

"You...are you…" Oz's voice was barely a breath. He blinked quickly, trying to clear his blurred vision. "...Are you okay?..." His gaze was anxious but weak. Gil could feel him beginning to slump against him.

"I'm fine," Gil mumbled, his chest heavy with shame. _I was so weak. How could I ever think I could protect you when I could barely protect myself?_

Oz seemed to see through him, for a slight frown fell over his face. But he didn't say anything, only watched Gil in what the raven perceived to be disappointment. The world seemed dark and angry, the room still chilled from the window.

Break sighed, leaning back on his hands. "No one's dead, right?"

"No," Gil sighed, passing a hand over his face. He rubbed his nose, trying to keep the movement from being noticed. Oscar saw it anyway, his hand clapping down gently onto Gil's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

Narrowed eyes peered into the room. Vincent's hair was tied in a messy updo, his dressing gown loose around his shoulders. "Was there an attack?"

"Mmm-hmm. It appears...that the Baskervilles aren't as dormant as we've been lead to believe," Break pulled a lollipop from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. He watched Vincent sharply.

The blond's eyes widened as he caught sight of Gil. "Big Brother! You're hurt!" He hurried to Gil's side, hovering over him anxiously. Gil scowled.

"I'm fine. I was just hit in the nose, that's all." He rubbed at his face unconsciously. "The nose bleeds a lot, you know that." It still stung and was starting to throb, but he could at least tell it wasn't broken. Something to be thankful for, he decided.

"Where's Echo?" Break wondered, giving his lollipop a casual lick.

"Asleep in her room," said Vincent, his expression shifting dangerously. "I checked."

Break eyed him, his eye gleaming. Gil looked between them anxiously, but he couldn't understand the odd hostility that prickled in the air. He was startled from these thoughts by Oz's head slumping against his shoulder. He brushed a hand through the disheveled blond hair tenderly.

Oscar smiled gently, lifting Oz into his arms. "Why don't you get cleaned up? I'll make sure he's alright, and then you can both get back to bed."

Sighing tiredly, Gil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

Oz was limp in Oscar's arms, his face slack. Gil swallowed. Oz had already been in a state, how could Gil have been so weak to allow him to face a Baskerville alone?

He forced himself to turn away, sick with self-loathing.

* * *

Oz opened his eyes, gazing up at the ceiling. He breathed out quietly, his brow furrowing as he tried to remember where he was. There was something...pricking at the back of his mind. Something he couldn't remember….

From beside him, there was a quiet murmur. He glanced over, momentarily surprised to find Gil sprawled beside him. He was tense, his face tight with something unknown. One hand was outstretched toward Oz, but they were quite far apart.

Oz longed to lay a hand on his forehead and brush some of the hair from his face, but he didn't want to wake him.

Morning sunlight filtered in through the closed curtains, casting the room in a dusty glow. It was peaceful, and Oz lay still for a moment, just breathing quietly. At last, he pushed himself upright, careful not to make a sound. Immediately, pain began to throb behind his skull.

Oh.

Maybe that's what it was.

Oz clenched his teeth, pressing at his temple gently. Even the slightest touch sent waves of pain emanating through his head. He lowered his hand, glancing around tiredly.

Suddenly the room was in flames. He gasped, pressing back against the pillows. Everything was burning, he couldn't breathe-

The vision was gone. Oz blinked.

His heart was pounding.

Oz looked again at Gil, still sleeping soundly. The area around his nose was beginning to bruise, and even though they were still light, they stood out sharply against his pale skin. Oz rubbed at his eyes, wishing the ache in his head would go away.

He lowered his hands, a strange feeling crawling down his wrists. When he looked at them, his fingers were slick and red with blood. The breath flew from his lungs, horror piercing his chest.

"A-Ah—"

The blood was gone.

Trembling, Oz laid back down, gripping the blakents tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face in the covers and trying to calm his frantic heart.

His ears were ringing again, but this time...it was a song.

* * *

When Gil awoke, he immediately thought of Oz. But the blond was still asleep, curled beside him with his hands clamped over his ears. His expression was scrunched with agitation. But his breathing was even, and after the week they'd had, Gil was afraid to wake him.

He touched a gentle hand to his forehead anyway. Oz didn't feel warm, and it eased some of his worry. Sighing quietly, Gil pushed himself out of bed, shuffling to the dresser to change his clothes. He glanced in the mirror as he buttoned his shirt, frowning at the sight of the bruises that had formed over the bridge of his nose.

For a moment, Gil paused. He'd woken with that odd sort of unsettled feeling again, and he gazed vacantly into the mirror, trying to remember why. A distant laugh touched his ears, calling to him through time. He tried to focus on it, but every time he did, it seemed to fade away.

A pair of violet eyes blazed through his mind.

Gil passed a weary hand over his face. He wished he knew who those eyes belonged to, especially if they were going to haunt him so much. A quiet anger rose inside him at the thought of those eyes, but he stamped it down.

They were only eyes, and yet...they always left him with this feeling….

Oscar poked his head in some time later, brandishing a tray of breakfast for them. Gil glanced up from his book, smiling gratefully.

"I was afraid to leave him alone," he murmured, closing the book and helping Oscar with the tray. "After what happened last night, I…"

The duke nodded in understanding. "It's alright, I feel the same. Whoever attacked you last night came in through the hall, which meant they were already inside the house. It has me worried."

Gil stared up at him. He hadn't thought of that. He'd been so shaken and tired and adrenaline-fueled that the thought of the attacker's unseen entry had simply slipped his mind. Sensing his sudden anxiety, Oscar patted his shoulder gently. "But we can sort all that out later. Once Oz wakes up, we can ask him what happened, and maybe that'll rule out some possibilities."

Gil swallowed, nodding.

Oz had fallen into a more relaxed sleep, and Gil hated to wake him, but he figured he should at least try and have him eat a little to keep his strength up. "Oz," he murmured, touching his shoulder gently. Oz flinched, his expression tensing again. Gil frowned, shaking him a little. "Oz?"

Oz's eyes opened slowly. He gazed up at Gil for a moment, blinking tiredly. There was something strange about the look in his eyes, and Gil leaned back a little, reaching for the tray from Oscar.

"Gil?" Oz murmured. Gil nodded.

"I've got some breakfast for you. I'd like you to try and eat some, even if you aren't hungry."

Oz let out a puff of breath, pushing himself to sit up against the pillows. Oscar had told Gil that Oz's back had been hit pretty hard, and Gil watched him anxiously. His movements were stiff, a strange, unsettled expression lingering beneath the calm in his eyes.

"Thank you," said Oz, taking the plate carefully and beginning to pick at the food. Oscar nodded, taking his own plate from the tray and pulling up a plush chair to sit beside Gil. They ate in an almost-quiet, content to relax in each others' presence.

Oz made a sudden sound of surprise, his fork clattering loudly against the plate as it slipped from his hand. Startled, Gil and Oscar glanced up from their own food. Oz stared down at his plate with wide eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. And then the panic was gone, just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Oz picked up his fork slowly, but he only held it over the plate, staring down at the food in silence.

"Is something wrong?" asked Gil, leaning forward anxiously. He looked closely at the food, but there didn't appear to be anything wrong with it. The words seemed to break Oz from his reverie.

"O-Oh, no, everything's alright." Oz smiled reassuringly, but Gil wasn't fooled.

"Oz…" He met Oz's gaze evenly, trying to decipher what that expression was...But Oz was a master of disguising his emotions.

"It's fine, Gil. I just thought I saw something. There wasn't anything there." He laughed, but it shook. "Either way, I'm starting to get full. Thank you for the food, Uncle." Oz yawned, replacing the half-empty place on the tray and slipping back beneath the covers.

Oscar smiled. "Of course, Oz. If you're starting to get tired, you should try to rest a little more. Don't push yourself."

Oz nodded, rolling over so they couldn't see his face.

* * *

Gil sighed quietly, glancing up from his book for the third time in five minutes. Oz was still asleep, his hair falling gently over his cheeks. He looked even smaller and thinner beneath the mound of blankets, his shoulders hunched as he curled close to the pillow. He'd slept all morning and into the afternoon, hardly waking much at all. It had Gil worried, and he had to continuously remind himself that it was normal after Oz had lost so much sleep.

He tried hard to focus on the words on the page, but he just felt so restless...Gil gripped the book tightly. His hands were itching for a cigarette.

But Oz was here, helpless and exhausted. Gil glanced up at him again, afraid to leave the blond alone.

And yet…

 _Even exhausted, he was more useful than you are._

Gil clenched his teeth and forced his eyes back down to the page. He bounced his leg, trying to push away the thoughts of an escape to the balcony to clear his thoughts, but the bouncing only made the words harder to see. At last, Gil stood in frustration, setting his book down and peering out into the hall.

A young maid was carefully dusting some of the vases that lined the hall. "E-Excuse me," he said quietly, glancing back at Oz's still form once more. She glanced up at him in surprise. "Could you...um, make sure that no one suspicious enters this room while I'm away?"

"Of course, Lord Gilbert," she said, dipping into a bow. "I'll keep watch."

He thanked her softly, closing the door behind him and whisking away toward the balcony. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he walked, wishing the awful tightness in his chest would go away.

* * *

It had started to rain sometime after lunch, and there was still a lingering drizzle in the air. In the distance, low fog rose below the trees. Gil leaned against the rail, watching the trail of smoke curl into the air. It felt good to be alone for a moment, and he breathed out slowly.

There was a faint chill in the air, the leaves that littered the edge of the balcony still damp from the rain. Gil held his coat together with one hand, tapping his foot absently against the ground. His stomach had felt odd all morning, churning with a strange sort or fear and uncertainty.

He'd sworn to protect Oz, but…

Gil took a drag from his cigarette, staring down at the rail. The white paint had begun to chip, and he could see the wood through it. It was dull and misted with rain.

 _But I wasn't any help at all._

Cold raindrops dusted his cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes. Gil gazed up into the rain, blinking as some fell into his eyes.

 _Am I...really needed here? What if...Oz doesn't….need me anymore?_

That thought sent a pang of fear twisting down into his stomach. What would he do without Oz? What if he was only being burdensome by lingering around this way?

 _Don't be stupid,_ he reminded himself. _Oz put himself in danger just to keep you safe, of course he wants you around._

Gil clenched a fist around the rail. The moisture transferred to his fingers and left them chilled.

 _Where...are these thoughts coming from? I_ — Gil sucked in a shaky breath.

 _Unneeded._

 _Unnecessary._

 _Useless._

 _Useless without someone who needs you._

 _Who needs you?_

 _What are you good for?_

A hand clapped down onto his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Gil stiffened, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It fogged at his lips in the cool air. He looked up, lowering the hand he hadn't noticed he'd dug into his hair.

Oscar leaned against the rail, looking out over the Rainsworth gardens. He sent Gil a sideways glance. Gil swallowed.

Oscar took a drag from his own cigarette, his eyes thoughtful, focused on the trees in the distance. The rain had cast them in a desaturated wash, muted and gray.

"Are you alright, Gil?" he asked quietly.

Gil looked away, fiddling with his hands. The agitation had vanished, replaced by a heaviness that dragged at his bones and left him feeling tired.

When he didn't answer, Oscar spoke again. "Have you...been having trouble sleeping?"

Gil clenched his fists so tightly his palms began to hurt, but his fingers felt numb.

Oscar breathed out a sigh, watching the rain fall. "If there's anything troubling you, you know you can talk to me about it, right? I'll always listen."

Gil glanced at him, but Oscar kept his eyes on the trees. Quietly, he said, "I…I've been having some...strange dreams. But, I can't...remember...them..." He bit his lip.

Oscar nodded slowly. "But they leave you feeling unsettled."

Gil let out a long breath. "...Yeah," He glanced away. "I just...I don't want to end up making the wrong decisions because of my past and the things I don't know." He rubbed at his arm, messing with the folds of his coat.

"Is that what scares you?" Oscar looked at him fully once more, tilting his head.

Gil couldn't meet his eyes. "Mmm-hmm…"

"Oh, Gil," sighed Oscar, shifting his weight against the rail. "No matter what happened in your past, Oz and I will always accept you." A sad smile touched his lips, and Gil lifted his head.

Oscars eyes were soft and bright in the gray of the afternoon. "You don't have to be afraid of those memories, because we'll be right here with you to discover them. And if they're hard, we'll help you through them." He sent Gil a sideways smile.

Gil's eyes filled with tears. He stared at the duke, his cigarette forgotten in his hand, flickering out in the drizzle.

 _Of course...how could I have…_

He didn't need to fear the past, because the past couldn't affect his future. Those memories had passed, they were only figments of his own mind now. They couldn't hurt him.

Oscar put out his cigarette and leaned over, tugging Gil into a gentle hug. Gil blinked furiously, too embarrassed to let Oscar see him cry.

* * *

When Gil returned to Oz, the blond had rolled onto his stomach, the pillow pressed tightly to his ears. Gil brushed his shoulder gently, his brow furrowing. At the touch, some of the tension eased from Oz's posture, a quiet breath breaking the stillness.

Watching him carefully, Gil picked up his book again.

After a time, Oz shifted in his sleep, flipping back onto one side. Gil glanced up, but the blond stilled again. But now that his face was visible, Gil could see the frown that pulled at his lips. He reached out, gently smoothing some of Oz's hair away from his face.

Oscar dropped by to bring them some dinner, but he and Break were working on something for Pandora and he couldn't stay long. Gil ate his own food, wondering if the smell would rouse Oz, but the blond's breathing remained even and slow. He considered waking him, but if Oz was able to sleep now, he didn't want to break it up.

 _I'll keep an eye on the food, and if it starts to get too cold, then I'll wake him._ Gil nodded to himself, peering anxiously at Oz over the top of his book.

The next time Gil glanced up, a pair of emerald eyes met his gaze. He blinked, startled, but Oz only watched him quietly. He hadn't moved from his side, the blankets pulled high around his shoulders. Oz's eyes were glazed with sleep.

"How're you feeling?" Gil murmured, setting his book down to grab Oz's plate. Oz didn't answer. His eyes were half-lidded, beginning to slide shut again. "I've got some food for you," said Gil, leaning forward. Oz's gaze followed him, but he didn't seem to register Gil's words.

Gil frowned. He balanced the tray on his knees and touched the back of his hand to Oz's forehead. _He still doesn't feel warm..._ Oz breathed in softly, blinking. "Oz?" asked Gil quietly. He was starting to get nervous.

Some of the fog lifted from Oz's eyes. "Gil?" he pushed himself to sit up, making a quiet sound as he forced his aching muscles to move. "O-Oh, sorry…"

Gil handed Oz the plate carefully, still watching him closely. "Are you okay?"

Oz ran a hand through his hair, but Gil didn't miss the way it shook. "Y-Yeah, of course, sorry. I must've...zoned out…" The look from before filled his eyes once more, something distant and unnerved that gazed unseeingly into nothingness. It made Gil's stomach twist anxiously.

He tilted his head, trying to get Oz to meet his eyes. "You'd...tell me if there was something bothering you, right?" Oz took a bite of his potatoes, stirring his fork through them absently.

"Of course, Gil. Don't worry."

Gil nodded, sighing lightly. But he could feel the lie, and it set his nerves on edge. They'd just escaped a fight with a Baskerville, and he wished he could be certain he didn't have to worry anymore.

He was tired of being worried.

* * *

 _...I don't mean to...doubt him anymore…._

Gil's opened his eyes, breathing in sharply. The house around him was dark and silent, a midnight chill hanging in the air. His heart was racing, but already the dream was gone. He glanced up slowly, rubbing at his eyes.

Before him, the bed was empty, cool moonlight spilling over it through a crack in the curtains. Gil froze, his eyes widening.

Oz was gone.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Shadows

**A/N: This chapter was 7k again** *gasp* **but I was reading through it and I was like 'hold on...why would I post this long chapter and then have to start from scratch next week wth ?' So I sliced it in two, yay! That's why the ending is a little off but hEy it's not a cliffhanger this time! Oh my goodness, we're trying all sorts of new things !**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators, I don't own anything.**

* * *

 _Sunset, I close my eyes_

 _I pretend everything's alright_

 _Drowning in anger, from all these lies_

 _I can't pretend everything's alright_

 _Please don't let me fall forever_

—Shadows, Red—

* * *

Gil had settled down beside Oz's bed, afraid to leave him for the night but not wanting to disturb his sleep by trying to climb in beside him. The blond had drifted off again shortly after eating, and after a time, Gil had replaced his book on the nightstand and blown out the lamp.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since then, but the bed was empty, sheets strewn back from where Oz had climbed out.

 _Or was taken,_ breathed his mind, sending a stab of terror spinning through his stomach. _Not again, this couldn't be happening again…_

Gil hurried to the window, only slightly relieved to find that it was still locked. He pulled back the curtains, letting moonlight spill into the room, but Oz wasn't anywhere. He snapped the curtains shut again, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking.

A sudden thought occurred to him, almost worse than the worry that Oz had been taken against his will. _He promised,_ Gil reminded himself firmly. _He promised not to leave again, there's no way he'd just—_

 _But what if he had?_

Gil closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe in slowly. To doubt Oz that way...it made him feel sick.

Afraid to light a candle in case there were Baskervilles around, Gil crept out into the hall. The door clicking shut behind him sounded deafening in the quiet.

The hall was empty, paned shadows cast onto the floor from the wide windows. Gil's heart was racing, a sickening fear threatening to climb up his throat. He swept through the darkness, peering around furniture and into open sitting rooms. Afraid he would wake someone, Gil tried to stifle his shaky breathing. If this was just a false alarm, Break would never let him hear the end of it.

But he was starting to fear that he'd been too late.

" _Oz!"_ he whispered frantically. " _Oz, can you hear me?"_

 _Where could he have gone—_

He rounded a corner and stopped abruptly, the panic that had been rising inside him culminating into a sudden release of breath. The wall curved in a bit, opening the hall into a sort of alcove for displaying large vases.

 _Of_ course _he wouldn't have left,_ Gil chastised himself, a hot sting of guilt striking his chest. He shouldn't have doubted his master.

Oz was curled in the corner, his fingers digging into his hair. Gil stepped closer, but Oz didn't look up. He was staring into the darkness, his eyes wide and unseeing. Gil swallowed hard.

"Oz?" he asked quietly. Oz didn't move. He'd pressed himself as far back against the wall as he could, staring down at some unspeakable horror. Gil's heart clenched. He knelt beside the blond, hands hovering awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "...Oz?" he asked again, even softer this time. Hesitantly, Gil brushed a hand along his shoulder. Oz flinched.

He sucked in a startled breath, blinking. Slowly, Oz lifted his head. His eyes were wide. "G-Gil...sorry, I...I went for a walk and I must've fallen asleep…" But his voice shook. He was shaking. It was cold in the hall.

Gil nodded, watching him miserably. If Oz really didn't want to tell him what was wrong, there was nothing he could do. But there was no longer any doubt that _something_ was wrong. "It's alright," he murmured. Oz gazed at him, his face pale in the moonlight. Gil squeezed his shoulder gently. "Come on, why don't we go back to bed? It's chilly out here."

Oz nodded faintly, allowing Gil to help him to his feet. He seemed unsteady, and Gil looped an arm around his shoulders. Oz leaned into the touch tiredly.

"I was worried…" said Gil softly, brushing some of the hair from Oz's face. Oz glanced away, clenching the edges of his sleeves tightly.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

The next morning, Gil pulled Oscar aside and explained what had happened. A dark worry fell over the duke's face, deepening the longer Gil spoke. Oz was still asleep, small and pale beneath the covers. Oscar sent him a worried glance.

"You said it's been happening often lately?"

Gil swallowed, following his gaze. "I..I don't know...I've never seen it happen until yesterday…."

Oscar smiled softly, but the look in his eyes hadn't changed. "Maybe he's just tired? You know this week's been hard on him,"

Gil nodded, chewing anxiously at his lower lip.

Oz slept through the rest of the afternoon, just as difficult to rouse as the previous day. Gil lingered beside him, keeping watch and, in case the blond did wake, company. But Oz slept deeply.

As dinnertime approached, Gil forced himself to leave his master's side. Oscar was busy going through paperwork for Pandora, and he couldn't trust the cooks to make them food anymore. Even so, he sent Oz a last glance before slipping out into the hall. He looked soft and small, and Gil's heart ached at the thought of leaving him, even for a short while.

"Lady Sharon?"

Sharon glanced up from her pastry, smiling softly at him. "Raven? What is it?" There was a quiet clink of china as she touched her teacup to its saucer lightly. Gil hesitated.

"I…" He glanced back down the hall. The door to Oz's room was just visible. Gil fidgeted. "I'm sorry to bother you, but...but would you mind…"

Sharon tilted her head curiously, an amused smile flickering over her lips.

Gil's cheeks reddened. "Would you...keep an eye on Oz for me?" Sharon nodded and took a sip of her tea, but he could see her watching him over the brim of the cup.

"Of course, Raven. I'll make sure nothing happens while you're away."

Even so, he couldn't help releasing a breath of relief. "Thank you, Lady Sharon, I promise I won't be long." He hurried away, the tension in his chest loosening at her call of:

"Don't worry, it's no trouble!"

* * *

Oz opened his eyes, gazing absently over the room. It was dark, a flame flickering dimly in the lamp beside the bed. He sat up slowly, pressing his aching back to the soft pillows.

Gil was gone, the book he'd been reading propped open on his vacant chair. Oz gazed at it, wondering vaguely if he'd gone to make something to eat. He wasn't hungry. He hadn't been hungry all day.

But he could tell Gil was starting to worry, so he'd forced down the heaviness in his bones and had tried to eat a little. It hadn't done any good.

Oz sighed quietly, breathing in. The scent of death washed over his tongue. He stiffened, nausea crawling down his throat. _Death...it's everywhere…._

Suddenly shaking, he pushed himself out of bed, one hand pressed to his mouth. _Need to get out….needtogetaway….get away..._

Oz staggered out into the hall, breathing raggedly. The farther he got from the room, the fainter the scent became, and he wiped furiously at his eyes to try and dispel the wetness that had risen there. His vision had blurred over, he could barely see. Oz walked aimlessly, bracing himself against the wall every now and then. He tried to walk in the shadows, but he didn't meet anyone, something for which he was grateful.

He came upon an empty sitting room, flickering shadows dancing across the walls in the dim light. Breathing out slowly, he sank onto one of the couches and pressed his face into his hands.

 _What's wrong with me? Why do I…_

— _Are you afraid?_

Oz stiffened. His breath caught in his chest.

 _I can—_

His heart was racing, pulsing in his ears.

— _take your fear away._

Suddenly he couldn't find his breath. Oz gasped, tugging at his hair, desperate for air. _Stop...stopstopthis….it….hurts…._

"St _op,"_ The word was deafening in the silence. Oz clenched his teeth, hating how his voice cracked, hating how weak he was. _The tragedy, of course it was the tragedy, it had always been the tragedy, where everything had begun—_

"...What?"

Oz froze. He glanced up, blinking. As his vision cleared, he was able to make out a girl standing in the hall. Echo, Vincent's servant. She was watching him, a faint frown pulling at her otherwise-emotionless face. He stared at her desperately.

Faintly curious, she stepped closer. "You don't want Master Gilbert to see," she said suddenly. Oz couldn't answer. His mouth felt dry. Echo watched him a moment longer. At last, she said, "Would you like some tea?" She seemed uncertain.

"Wh-What?" Oz managed. His chest was so tight...everything felt so close…. _Help...I don't want to see it again...I don't want to see…._

Echo lifted the teapot he hadn't realized she'd been carrying. His hands were shaking. "I was going to bring some to Master Vincent, but he's in the kitchen talking with Master Gilbert." She shifted awkwardly.

Oz swallowed. She watched him quietly. "S-Sure," Oz breathed. His head was spinning. Echo was suddenly beside him, pouring steaming tea into two cups she'd set on the coffee table. He watched her numbly, still trying to catch his breath.

"You're trying to escape your memories," said Echo, without looking up. Her hands were steady as she poured, and Oz tried to focus on them. He didn't need to answer. She could read him easily.

Echo watched him carefully as he took the cup, ready to catch it in case he dropped it. He barely noticed, trying hard to keep his hands from shaking. Satisfied that he wouldn't spill, she took her own cup and sat down beside him. He glanced at her. She was stiff, frowning faintly.

"Master Gilbert would understand," She touched the cup to her lips.

Oz gazed down into the dark liquid, his stomach churning. "I know." He swallowed. "But….I don't want him to worry…."

"Master Gilbert is already worried." Her voice held no emotion.

He took a sip of his tea, hiding his face in the cup. "I know,"

Echo gazed into the fireplace. "But, Master Gilbert will always worry about you." There was a quiet clink as she lifted her saucer. Oz paused, glancing at her. She didn't look at him.

"But…in this case, I think knowing will only make him worry more," said Oz quietly.

"Maybe." Echo took another sip.

Oz laughed shakily, glancing down at his lap. "B-Besides, Gil's got his own memories to worry about. This is something I've got to be strong enough to handle on my own…" For some reason, her stoic presence was helping to ease the pressure in his chest, releasing some of the breath that had caught there. It was warm and quiet in the firelight.

"Some things are too difficult for that." She tilted her head, sending him a sideways glance. "Maybe this is one of those things?"

Oz stared at her. _This...feeling..._ He smiled sadly, gazing down at the warped reflection in his tea.

* * *

Gil sighed, trying feebly to balance the tray of food on one arm while pushing Oz's door open with the other. Stepping inside, he breathed in sharply.

The room was empty.

Cold panic shot down into his stomach. Clenching his teeth, Gil hastily set the tray on the bedside table and hurried down the hall to the sitting room he'd found Sharon in.

"Lady Sharon!" he gasped, bursting through the door. She glanced up at him in surprise, a dessert fork pausing on its way to her mouth.

"Raven?"

He brushed the hair from his face, breathing hard. "O-Oz is— "

Her eyes softened with understanding. "—Just fine."

All the air left Gil's lungs in a rush. "H-Huh?" Sharon smiled gently at him.

"I've been keeping an eye on him, don't worry. He only went for a walk." She nodded down at her feet, and only then did Gil understand. The shadow beneath her was oddly dark, even in the warm candlelight.

"Eques," he breathed. She nodded, taking a sip of her tea.

"You'll find him in the sitting room just down the hall."

Gil let out a long sigh, the relief nearly making his knees weak. "Thank you, Lady Sharon." He turned away before she had a chance to respond, his racing heart desperate to see Oz with his own eyes. This was the first time he'd gotten out of bed on his own all day, and if it was anything like the last time...Gil swallowed anxiously.

The quiet sound of voices drifted into the hall, and Gil peered into the room curiously. He was startled to find Oz on one of the couches near the fire with Echo beside him, both sipping quietly at some tea. She said something he couldn't quite make out and Oz laughed softly, his cheeks faintly pink in the firelight.

Gil stared, the weight in his chest lifting. _To hear Oz laugh again…_

He stepped into the room, smiling tiredly. " _There_ you are, I was afraid something had happened." Oz glanced up, his face reddening at the sight of Gil. Echo averted her gaze.

"I-I was afraid of that," Oz mumbled. He passed a hand through his hair.

Echo stood up abruptly. "Echo should be going now. Master Vincent will be waiting." She nodded to Oz, taking the teapot and vanishing into the hall. Oz watched her go, finishing off his own tea and pushing himself to his feet. He only faltered for a moment, but it dissipated the warm feeling that had risen in Gil's chest.

"How're you feeling?" asked he quietly as Oz moved to his side.

"A little hungry," Oz admitted, sending him a sideways glance. "But otherwise, I'm fine."

Gil nodded. "That's good." He brushed a hand through Oz's hair as they walked, fingering the soft strands thoughtfully. "I've got some dinner for you," He felt Oz nod beneath his hand.

It was quiet in the hall, and Gil focused on the peacefulness of it all. With Oz here beside him like this…

Oz made a sudden strangled sound, staggering against Gil, his fingers locking tightly around Gil's upper arm. Startled, Gil turned toward him. Oz's eyes were wide, each breath catching in his chest. His fingers dug into Gil's arm as though it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"O-Oz?"

Oz couldn't breathe. _Bodies...the hall was littered with bodies…Flames licked at the walls...an awful heat pressed down on him…_

 _Everything was splattered with blood—_

He blinked and the scene was gone. Oz was left leaning heavily against Gil, who watched him worriedly. He pressed his forehead to Gil's arm, closing his eyes and breathing shakily, trying to calm his racing heart.

He could feel Gil trembling, but the raven only reached up to run a hand through Oz's hair.

"I'm sorry," Oz whispered, too tired to fight the heaviness that was falling over him. "I didn't...mean to worry you…."

Gil swallowed. "It's alright," he murmured, looping an arm around Oz and squeezing him tightly. But Oz could hear the tears in his voice.

Back in his room, Gil half-carried Oz to sit on one of the couches, hurrying to set the tray of dinner on the coffee table so Oz could reach it. Sensing Oz's tiredness, he'd tried to help him into bed, but his master had protested, staggering toward the couch on his own. Gil had intercepted him, though he was a bit bewildered.

Gil settled down beside him, picking at his own dinner. Oz ate a little more than usual, but it still wasn't much. Gil couldn't help glancing at him now and then, his stomach swirling with worry.

Back when he'd found him in the sitting room with Echo, Oz's face had been bright, flushed with happiness. But he was pale again, a haunted look lingering behind his eyes.

 _I wish you would just_ tell _me….I wish there was something I could do…._

Sensing his gaze, Oz glanced up, smiling softly. It quivered at the edges. Breathing out slowly, he reached up, carding a hand through Oz's hair.

 _Can't you see? I'm right here…._

 _I could take away some of the burden…._

 _...If only you'd let me_ in _..._

Gil stoked the fire and grabbed their books, settling down beside Oz to read in the firelight. He was certain it was getting late, but Oz seemed reluctant to return to his bed, so Gil didn't try and make him. Besides, Oz had slept through so much of the past few days, getting to sleep at a decent time of night didn't really matter anymore.

It was at least peaceful to sit together in the darkness, and Gil tried to focus on the warm feeling that it had planted inside his chest. That's right, they'd figure all this out together.

Everything was going to be fine. As long as he had Oz beside him, everything would be just fine.

After a time, Gil became aware of a faint weight against his shoulder. He glanced at Oz, his eyes softening. The blond had begun to slump against him, his head lolling onto Gil's shoulder. Oz's face was relaxed, his breath slow and even with sleep.

Smiling to himself, Gil closed his book and set it beside him. He leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing in the warm smell of the fire. Oz was warm and small beside him, soft strands of his hair brushing Gil's cheek. The fire crackled faintly in the hearth, lulling him softly to sleep.

 _It's so warm, to be here together like this…._

 _I wish it could stay this way forever._

* * *

" _Come on Gilbert, Vincent, there's someone I want you to meet!"_

 _That voice…._ he knew it….

Gil hurried forward, but he could see neither his brother nor the owner of the voice. _I know that voice….why can't I…_

 _Remem—_

 _Hot pain seared across his back, blood pooling over the ground around him._

— _ber?_

Gil gasped, stumbling back. _He wasn't on the ground...he was standing in the garden again—_

" _Young Master!"_

 _Oz was before him, in a sea of golden wheat….falling...Oz was falling…!_

Gil lunged forward, stretching out his arms. _But they weren't his arms, they couldn't be...they were so small…._

 _Someone was….crying…._

Suddenly he found himself running, desperation clawing at his chest, making it hard to breathe—

 _He burst through the curtains, people were shouting...stop, please stop! Please don't fight—_

" _MASTER!"_

Gil sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes shooting open. The fire was dim in the hearth. His heart was racing. He sat still for a moment, trying to calm his pounding heart. His stomach twisted unfortablly, his hands trembling as they tried to brush the hair from his face. His forehead was damp with sweat. As he moved, Oz made a quiet sound, and Gil froze.

 _My...master?_

Oz was still slumped against him, his breaths quiet in the darkness. Gil could still feel the tickle of his hair against his cheek. He closed his eyes, letting the moonlight wash over him and relishing in the softness of the moment.

 _My master is right here._ He wrapped his arms around the sleeping blond, pulling him close. Sighing quietly into the darkness, Gil rested his chin on Oz's head and closed his eyes.

* * *

When Gil woke, warm sunshine was streaming in through the curtains. Oz was still in his arms, tucked close against him. Breathing out slowly, Gil shifted sleepily, trying not to wake him.

"Gil?" asked Oz quietly.

Gil blinked. "O-Oh, I didn't know you were…" His cheeks reddened. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No," murmured Oz. It occurred to Gil that he'd trapped him in an embrace, possibly one Oz hadn't wanted. But Oz was relaxed in his arms, so he couldn't have been too upset…

Swallowing awkwardly, Gil let his arms fall away. "S-Sorry about that, I-I must've…"

"Did you sleep alright?" asked Oz. He didn't move away, but fiddled with his hands. Gil suddenly regretted that he couldn't see Oz's face. He sounded fine, but there was something that didn't feel quite right…

"U-Um...yeah, yeah I did. What about you?" He could feel Oz breathing, his head resting back against Gil's chest.

"I did," said Oz. Gil stared down at him, torn between staying in the warmth of the sunlight and getting up to get them something to eat. There was something odd in the air between them, and it was making his stomach twist with worry he couldn't place.

"W-Well...I'm getting a little hungry, how about you? Why don't I go get us some breakfast?" He shifted forward, moving to get up.

Oz nodded absently. He leaned sideways to allow Gil to slip past him, watching the raven carefully as he stood and stretched. Gil glanced back at him, his brow furrowed, though he tried to hide it. Beneath his eyes, the dark circles hadn't lessned. Oz's fingers dug into his palms. He watched Gil go, biting at the inside of his cheek.

It was as he'd thought, then.

 _He's starting to remember…_

In the night, when Gil pulled Oz close...He'd been sleeping lightly, and the sudden touch had woken him.

Gil had spoken, without realizing, it seemed.

Oz watched the door close behind him, swallowing down his unease.

 _He called me 'Master…'_

* * *

When Gil returned, he found Oz where he'd left him on the couch, gazing out the window. He'd opened the curtains, allowing the sunlight to wash over the room. It was a little overcast, but it was almost more beautiful that way, the faint touch of gray making the brightly colored leaves all the more striking.

Smiling softly, Gil handed him a plate and settled down beside him. Oz smiled his thanks, leaning back against the couch. He seemed less troubled than before, and it eased some of the worry that had pricked at Gil's heart.

"Thanks for making this, it's really good," Oz murmured, biting down on his fork thoughtfully.

Gil nodded, unable to stop the pleased blush that flew to his cheeks. "Of course, I'm glad you like it."

They could see far over the Rainsworth gardens from the window, beautifully groomed, even in the autumn chill. Some of the trees were at last beginning to lose their leaves, and every now and then, one or two drifted past the window, spiralling toward the ground in a slow descent.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Eclipse

**A/N: Remember, this chapter was originally part of the previous chapter! (Maybe re-read it if you don't remember what's happening, I think the flow is better when they're together).**

 **ALSO: The next chapter might take a little longer to be published, since I'm going to be busy this week. Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! Ehehehe**

 **DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to its original creators, I don't own anything.**

* * *

 _Enemy, familiar friend,_

 _My beginning and my end_

 _Knowing truth, whispering lies_

 _And it hurts again._

— _Fight Inside, Red_ —

* * *

Despite the energy that Oz seemed to have woken with, he spent most of the day in bed. Often he slept, like before, but occasionally he read a little from the Holy Knight book Gil had brought him. The afternoon was peaceful and calm, Gil's worry eased a little by Oz's improved wakefulness.

When night fell upon them, however, Gil was startled by Oz's small hand reaching out to catch the edge of his sleeve as he leaned to put out the lamp.

"Oz?" he murmured, blinking in surprise.

Oz patted the space beside him. "Sleep up here. If you're going to stay, you might as well get a good rest." He was leaning back against the pillows, his book tented in his lap. Gil stared at him.

"Alright," he said softly, moving to the other side of the large bed and slipping beneath the covers. Seemingly satisfied, Oz placed his book on the nightstand and turned out the light. The room was encased in darkness, and Gil only knew where Oz was by the sound of his shifting. Outside, rain pelted the windows.

It was warm beneath the covers despite the chill of the room, and it wasn't long before Gil allowed himself to drift into sleep.

" _Gil!"_

Gil's eyes shot open, his body jerking with surprise at finding himself in the strange gardens once again. A small hand caught his sleeve, tugging him forward.

" _Come on—"_ The words cracked, Vincent's image flickering.

"— _said he wants to...show us….something!"_

Gil stared down at his brother, a sudden pain beginning to rise behind his eyes. His clothes were familiar...this place….hadn't he been here often? Vincent pulled at him again, and Gil's breath caught in his chest.

He tugged his arm away sharply. His heart thundered in his ears.

Vincent stopped, staring up at him curiously. " _Big Brother? Is something wrong?"_

Gil staggered back. Before...hadn't….his hands passed through the things he'd touched?

"What…" he began, but suddenly the image changed.

Gil's blood froze in his veins.

 _This room...I know this room…_

He pressed his hands to his head, struggling to breathe. The dull throbbing had risen to a fierce pounding that jumbled his already unfocused thoughts. _Hurts...Why does it….hurt….?_

It was a tower room, made of stone, with a window that faced the gardens. Beside it, there was….

 _The girl turned, her long hair swaying with the movement._

Agony exploded inside Gil's head, a strangled scream tearing from his lips. He sank to his knees, digging his fingers into his hair.

" _Oh, you have a red eye!"_

 _Her smile was venomous._

Gil pressed his face to the floor, sobbing raggedly. It felt like his mind was being ripped apart, the shards of a memory filtering in through the chaos. He could almost make out...there, in the pieces….

 _Hate her….I hate her…._

 _I hate her…._

 _I-I—!_

 _The girl was laughing, her violet eyes blazing with energy. She spun, and as she twirled the scene melted into another, one where she held a small black plush at arms length as though it was her dancing partner._

Gil's eyes shot open. He stared unseeing, breathing hard, tears dripping forward onto the floor.

It flashed before his eyes again; the girl dancing happily. _In her arms swung a plush toy, a small black rabbit adorned with a white bow at its throat. Its red eyes glittered in the sunshine._

 _The girl laughed once more, a bright, clear sound._ And then, from her lips….

" _Oz!"_

 _She hugged the plush rabbit close._

Gil lifted his head, staring up at her in horror.

* * *

It was still dark when Oz opened his eyes. Outside, thunder rumbled, rain pounding against the roof. He lay still a moment, trying to figure out what had woken him. At first, he thought it must've been the storm, but then he became aware of a faint sound beneath the roaring outside. Oz held his breath, listening closely.

At last, he heard it again; a quiet whimper in the darkness. Oz rolled to face Gil, wishing it was a brighter night. He could barely see the raven beside him, his trembling form silhouetted against the window. Gil was breathing fast, gripping the pillow tightly in his sleep. Oz leaned closer, watching him anxiously. A flash of lightning pierced the room, and only then could he see the sheen of tears on Gil's cheeks.

 _This is what I was afraid of…_

Gil's breathing quickened suddenly, his eyelids fluttering. Oz hovered beside him, unsure what to do. Gil's hands were trembling, clenching at his hair. Biting his lip, Oz reached out carefully, but a crack of thunder shook the room and he flinched back.

"Gil?"

Gil curled in on himself, a sob wrenching from his lips. Oz stared at him, his eyes watering.

"C-Come on Gil, wake up. It's only a dream…" Taking a deep breath, Oz leaned in and brushed his hand across Gil's. When the raven still didn't stir, he caught the hand and twined their fingers together, squeezing tightly. "Don't hurt yourself, it's alright. Just open your eyes..."

Suddenly, Gil went rigid, his breath hitching. Oz swallowed anxiously. His stomach flipped, clenching fearfully.

 _I wanted to be here because I thought I could help, but…_

 _I should have known I'd be useless._

He stroked his thumb over Gil's fingers, pressing his free hand to the raven's forehead. It didn't feel warm. "H-Hey," he tried gently, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, "don't worry, I-I'm—"

A wretched scream ripped into the quiet. Oz gasped, flinching away in surprise. "Hurts…" Gil sobbed quietly, pressing his face into the mattress. "Hurts, it hurts…"

Oz blinked furiously. "It's alright," he mumbled, brushing some hair away from Gil's forehead. "I'm right here…" The room was frigid, the roaring thunder outside sending his pulse racing. Oz tucked the blanket higher around Gil's shoulders, even though his face was slick with sweat.

Gil was crying openly now, gripping Oz's hand tightly. "Hurts...It _hurts…"_ His voice broke, and Oz had to breathe in quietly to control the sudden feeling that twisted down into his stomach.

He was just reaching out to shake Gil's shoulder when the raven convulsed, another jagged scream piercing the air. Gil's face twisted with agony, his fingers clenching around his hair and tugging harshly.

"It's alright," Oz whispered helplessly, his voice barely able to be heard over the pulsing of the thunder. Lightning blazed before his eyes. Gil breathed in sharply, and when Oz could see again, golden eyes were staring up at him, glazed with tears.

"O-Oz?" He breathed, blinking the tears from his eyes. Oz tried to respond, but the words got caught in his throat. He could only nod, swallowing thickly.

Gil groaned quietly, rubbing at his temple as he pushed himself upright. "What…?"

"You had a nightmare," Oz managed, gripping the blankets tightly. Gil frowned, pressing at his head and gritting his teeth.

"S-Sorry, did I—" A flash of lightning lit the room, and he glanced up, breaking off at the sight of the glaze of tears in Oz's eyes. Oz looked away quickly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

 _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...all of this is my fault….if I hadn't tried to...If I hadn't been so_ stupid, _then everything would still be like it was…_

They would never have met, but…

 _But maybe that would've been for the best._ All his presence had brought to Gilbert's life was pain, and each day it grew harder and harder to watch the raven fall apart.

"Oz?" Gil whispered, his eyes wide. His cheeks were still stained with tears, glittering in the darkness. Oz shook his head, biting his lip to keep it from quivering. Gil reached out anxiously, but Oz shrank back. "I-I'm sorry," Gil breathed, searching for him in the dark, "Did I wake you? Is everything—"

"I'm fine," Oz cut over him, forcing his voice to stay steady. "You just...just had me worried, that's all." The lightning illuminated his smile, gone too quickly for Gil to see it break.

* * *

The next morning was cold, the first few snowflakes swirling through the air. They ate breakfast in one of the large Rainsworth dinning rooms, the drapes pulled aside to let the light in. It was bright, and Gil couldn't help but be mesmerized by the falling snow.

"It probably won't stick around," said Break, following his gaze. He took a sip of his tea, smiling faintly. Gil blushed, taking another bite of his biscuit. Oz sent him a small smile.

They hadn't spoken of what had happened during the night, and Gil wasn't sure if he was glad or not. Oz seemed to thoroughly wish not to discuss it, but...there was a part of him that couldn't stop thinking about the dream.

He could still remember it.

Although...the pieces were a bit jumbled. He took a sip of tea, staring into the cup thoughtfully. His mind swirled around the bits he could recall, trying to make sense of everything. He had finally found the owner of those glittering eyes, but…

Gil swallowed.

' _Oz!'_

But there was something new to uncover. Sighing softly, he leaned back in his chair, watching the snow flutter down. The others were discussing something, but he tuned them out, trying to understand the feelings that had begun to well up inside him.

He had always tried to push the distorted dreams to the back of his mind, wishing they would leave him alone. Hoping that if he ignored them, they would cease to bother him. He was _happy;_ Oz was finally with him again, and he was free from the oppressive aura of the Nightray house. Break and Sharon were good friends, and Oscar was often around. He didn't want to do anything that would break everything apart.

So he had pushed down his curiosity, content to focus on the present instead of the past. But the fragments were still there, swirling ominously, waiting...waiting for the right time….

Gil had swallowed down his fear about the things he didn't know, trying his best not to delve into them. Vincent was certainly against his exploration of their past.

" _...Maybe you don't need to remember..."_

" _...Maybe you couldn't_ handle _remembering!"_

And...Oz seemed to be, too. _He doesn't think I would be able to deal with the aftermath of that knowledge._

Gil frowned. A sudden fear washed down his throat. _But...that implies….that he_ knows _the things I've forgotten!_ He pressed a hand to his mouth, barely able to breathe. _Oz was_ there. It had never even crossed his mind that their pasts might coincide— Sharp pain pierced his temple and he clenched his teeth.

"Gil?"

He blinked, the others' curious eyes suddenly coming into focus. Oz's small hand tugged at his sleeve. His eyes were shadowed with worry, something almost knowing hiding in the depths of his gaze.

"Ah, sorry, I was just thinking." He tried for a smile, reaching out to ruffle Oz's hair. But the worry didn't leave his master's eyes. Across the table, Break watched carefully.

* * *

Gil glanced up from the book he'd been flipping through, watching Oz. The snow had drizzled out into a light rain, and Oz was leaning over the windowsill to watch it fall. A mist of fog ghosted the glass from the chill outside, the warmth from the fireplace not quite able to reach it. They had retired to the library after breakfast, simply relaxing in each others' company as the morning faded to afternoon.

But the thought was still _there,_ poking at the back of his mind.

' _Oz!'_

 _Those eyes..._ Gil swallowed. Who was she?

 _And why did I hate her?_

Why did the thought of her smile make his stomach curl with anger? And...the plush she'd been holding….He couldn't push the thoughts away, apprehension for something he couldn't place gripping his insides.

"Hey Oz?" The fire crackled gently, soft against the light patter of rain on the window.

"Hm?" said Oz, still leaning to gaze out the window. His book was propped on the sill, his elbows resting beside it. The cool light washed over his serene face.

Gil hesitated, working his lower lip between his teeth. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, maybe he should try and restrain his curiosity, even if it burned at his mind. If Oz wanted Gil to know, he would've spoken about it already, wouldn't he? Maybe it would only make things worse…

"Gil?" Oz wondered, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Gil shifted, passing a hand through his hair uncertainly.

"Have you...ever…." he swallowed, trying to unstick the words from the inside of his mouth, trying to say it correctly. "Have you ever known….a girl...with brown hair, a-and...violet eyes?"

Oz took in a quiet breath. He stilled, staring out the window as though it wasn't there. He didn't turn, and Gil suddenly wished he'd waited until he could see Oz's face.

"...Oz?" Gil watched him anxiously, fear and regret coursing through his chest. _I shouldn't have asked. I should've just kept my mouth shut…_ Oz's fingers gripped the sill lightly, one hand coming to rest over the cover of his book. He was silent, frozen, barely breathing in the quiet of the room. Just as Gil was about to get up, his stomach churning worriedly, his master's quiet voice broke the air.

"No."

Gil paused, his open book halfway to being set on the coffee table. "What?"

Oz looked down, leaning forward against the sill. "No, I haven't." The words were hardly a breath. "I've never known anyone like that." But he still did not turn, staring down at his hands as though Gil wasn't there.

Settling back against the couch, Gil nodded, swallowing quietly. "O-Oh,"

At last, Oz lifted his book again, glancing back toward Gil with a quivering laugh. "Why d'you ask?"

"Just...a dream I had," Gil murmured, trying to sound offhand.

Oz laughed again, returning to the chair across from him. "A dream's all it was then," He lifted his book, hiding behind it. "That's oddly specific, Gil. _Violet_ eyes," His voice was shaking, some strange feeling pulsing beneath the words, and Gil watched him carefully, the worry inside his stomach rising into fear.

It was a _lie._

' _Oz!'_

He could still see her clearly in his mind, her venomous smile, the brightness in her eyes as she twirled with the plush in her arms.

Gil tried to read, but the fear gnawed at his heart, shaking his confidence. _He's lying to suppress my memories. Why? Why wouldn't he want me to know?_

 _What could they contain...that Oz would want to hide from me so desperately?_ He suddenly wanted to dissect the pieces, desperate to understand. No longer was the past his alone, something to be feared and shied away from. He wanted to know the _truth,_ and the role Oz played in it.

* * *

Oz tried to focus on the story, on Edgar's desperate attempts to protect his master on their quest, but Gil's words had brought forth a cyclone of emotions he hadn't been prepared to face.

 _Alice…_

He leaned back into the armchair, raising the book so Gil wouldn't be able to see his face. The words blurred before his eyes, hot guilt sloshing through his stomach.

" _Promise me...you'll come save me…."_

 _In the end, all I did was ruin everything._ He sank his teeth into his lower lip, trying to keep from crying. He couldn't break down like this...not with Gil sitting right across from him...

" _I won't let anyone take away what is mine!"_

Oz closed his eyes, but her limp body flashed before him anyway, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. It stole the breath from his lungs, her blank eyes staring right through him.

 _It was all my fault..._ He stifled a sob, trembling with the effort. He could feel Gil's careful eyes on him. _A soft breath of air brushed his neck, a silken voice murmuring into his ear._

 _That's right._

 _Because…._

 _...in the end…_

 _You destroy everything._

* * *

Oz had fallen into a state of quiet, his eyes distant. He seemed absent when Gil spoke to him, his voice soft with what Gil was certain were memories. He kept a watchful eye on him, worry eating at his insides at the thought that his own prying might've unleashed something unwanted.

He still could not fathom what would bring his master to lie about such matters. Oz was usually open about the things he knew or didn't know, trusting Gilbert with his thoughts.

Gil sighed, replacing the lid of the teapot. _At least, for most things._

When it came to his own emotions, Oz refused to let anyone see the truth.

 _So there must be some sort of emotional connection,_ he decided, nudging the door open with his hip. The the cups on the tray in his hands rattled, announcing his presence in the dinning room.

Oz and Oscar had saved him a seat between them, and he carefully set the tray in the center of the table and sit down.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," he said, scooting his chair closer to the table.

Sharon smiled gently. "You didn't. We were only speculating about Lord Vincent's whereabouts this evening,"

Break's eye slid to the side, an expression of distaste ghosting his lips. Gil blinked. "He dropped by the kitchen while I was working on dinner. He told me he was needed at Pandora and would be back soon,"

Oscar laughed, patting Gil's shoulder. "That's just like him, isn't it? Not telling anybody anything…"

"A-Ah, yeah,"

Oscar smiled at him, his eyes soft and kind. Gil blushed, looking away. _Don't forget what we talked about,_ his gaze seemed to say. Gil swallowed. No, he hadn't forgotten. But everything was still so confusing...he needed to make sense of his memories on his own before he could discuss them with the others.

 _Especially if Oz doesn't want me to know…_

"Thank you for making this," said Oz quietly, nodding toward the plate. He kept his eyes lowered, hardly glancing at Gil as the raven reached to card a hand through his hair.

"Of course," he murmured. "Whoever poisoned the food was trying to get to me for some reason, I wouldn't want anyone else to have to suffer because of it…"

"Yes…" Break murmured, sucking on his fork. His eye glinted thoughtfully in the candlelight. "It is quite odd...Especially if it was a Baskerville…." He tapped the fork against his lip. "You don't have any idea what they could've wanted with you?"

Gil shook his head. "I wish I did,"

"Whoever attacked us, they didn't use their chain," Oz mumbled. He took a sip of tea. "Probably to conceal their identity…I'm sure it was the same person, since they obviously came from inside the house…" He sounded tired, and Gil glanced at him worriedly.

Break nodded. He looked to be considering something, and it sent a prickle of unease curling down Gil's spine, though he wasn't sure why.

* * *

Gil opened his eyes, unsure as to what had woken him. The room was dark, rain pounding the roof above. He'd curled up beside Oz once more, and as his eyes adjusted to the blackness, he was able to make out the cavity where the blond had once been.

A flash of panic shot down his spine and he sat up quickly, only to release a puff of breath as he caught sight of the small silhouette by the window. The glass was plastered with raindrops, frigid light washing over Oz's still frame. One hand rested on the sill.

Gil sat for a moment, watching him silently. When Oz remained motionless, Gil crept out of bed, padding curiously to stand beside him.

"Oz?" he murmured. Oz gazed into the night, watching the rain shatter against the glass. Worry washed through Gil's chest. He leaned closer anxiously.

Oz tilted his head, sending Gil a sideways glance. His eyes glittered in the darkness. Gil stared at him.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Oz breathed, his lips curving into a grin.

Gil's heart slammed against his chest. He tried to answer, but the words caught in his throat. An awful feeling crawled down his spine, settling heavily in the pit of his stomach.

"Yeah," he pressed out. Oz smiled at him, his eyes sharp and knowing.

Oz allowed himself to be steered back to bed, quickly slipping back into a relaxed sleep. Gil lay on his side, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His face was serene, golden hair falling softly over his cheeks.

But Gil couldn't shake the unease that prickled beneath his skin, those deep green eyes still bright in his mind.


End file.
